


and the story's brand new

by empresseokjin (polymerase)



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: AUs, Blood and Violence (Chapter 19 only), F/M, Genderbending, M/M, Other, nonbinary characters - Freeform, slight emotional abuse (chapter 27 only), viatnemese translation of ch 11 available
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-15
Updated: 2016-09-20
Packaged: 2018-05-01 19:56:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 33
Words: 45,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5218811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/polymerase/pseuds/empresseokjin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>prompts for a variety of seventeen pairings. </p>
<p>project abandoned until further notice. </p>
<p>(bravado | lorde)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. tattoos (hansol/seungkwan)

**Author's Note:**

> hello! as of august 2017, i will no longer actively be trying to add to this work. i sincerely apologize to those of you who were waiting for prompts, an edit of a chapter, or a specific pairing. if you're new here, thanks for giving it a shot, and i hope you find your otp in what i've already written.  
> (abandoned 8/13/17)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> waking up and finding someone else's name tattooed on you. yikes.
> 
> seungkwan/hansol

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> edited and reposted - 1/25/17

"No fucking way." 

Seungkwan stood with his back to the mirror, turned so he can see the literal monstrosity tattooed across his left ass cheek. Dark, bold strokes spelling _Hansol_ mar his smooth skin. "No fucking way!" He knew in his gut that this, the strange man in his bed, and his pounding headache had everything in common. Soonyoung’s warning, teasing voice echoed in his head.

_"Seungkwanie, you're such an idiot when you're drunk. Please love yourself.”_

Too bad Seungkwan had never been great at taking advice.

When he left the bathroom he saw the stranger, probably Hansol, gathering his clothes. “Hey, wait a second-”

"I'm not staying for breakfast, or anything, if that's what you're going to say." The man had fluffy bed head and a large bite mark on his left shoulder, visible where his shirt had slipped off. The effect of it all charmed Seungkwan into almost not being annoyed.

"If you would please _listen_ , you would know that I was going to say that you should probably look at this." He punctuated the sentence by turning around and pointing at his still-bare ass. "Is this you?"

Hansol stared for a second before laughing nearly hysterically. “Oh my god! That’s me. That’s my name. On your butt!” Seungkwan huffed and moved to cross his arms, but suddenly froze as his eyes zeroed in on something.

“Is that…?”

Hansol started to nod, as if accepting of his own fate, like some warrior who’s been told humanity’s survival rests on his shoulders. Seungkwan rolled his eyes. And his friends called _him_ a drama queen. "Your name is back there, isn’t it. Seungcheol-hyung told me I shouldn't drink. But do I listen? Of course not. This always happens, I swear to god, I can't go out without-"

"Please shut up. Damn.”

He got an ugly glare in reply, but Hansol stopped talking. He fell back down onto the bed, bare naked except for a shirt, which Seungkwan realized, with a sort of distracted giddiness, was his.

"Well, I guess we’re kind of stuck with each other now, aren’t we?" 

Hansol shrugged, a small smile beginning to form. "I guess so."

///

Hansol stands up from his seat, frowning deeply. "That's not how it happened. At all."

"Are you calling me a liar?" Seungkwan asks, jumping immediately to his own defense.

"Yeah, actually. I am."

Jisoo laughs softly and leans over to Junhui. “It’s a miracle that they’ve been dating this long.” The younger nods and rolls his eyes, silently agreeing with his boyfriend.

Hansol sits back down, arms crossed, looking belligerent. “This is how it _really_ happened.”

///

Hansol startled awake, disoriented, to the sound of a strange man running into the unfamiliar bedroom, screaming bloody murder about tattoos and advice and _my perfect, perfect ass!_ "You've ruined it! My butt is tattooed, oh my god, Soonyoung-hyung was right. I’m never drinking again, your _name_ is on my _body_ -”

"What?" Hansol's head throbbed, last night’s soju finally catching up with him. The shouting helped exactly none.

"Your name is tattooed on my ass." And with that he turned around and unceremoniously pointed to the prominent, bold ink that did indeed spell out Hansol.

With a deep, knowing sense of dread, he turns his head, and sure enough, he has a tattoo of his own, standing out proudly against his skin. Again, doing nothing for his headache.

"Well, I guess we’re kind of stuck with each other now, aren’t we?”

And Hansol didn't wake up expecting to find the name of some stranger permanently etched on his ass, but what can you do?

"I guess so."

///

Jisoo nudges Junhui again, after the bickering has picked up again. "Too bad they don't even remember the best part."

"Yeah, but I like knowing that only we have that story."

Jisoo laughs, intertwining their fingers. "We'll take it to the grave."

"Or at least the deathbed,” Junhui smirks, “I don’t want that story to die.”


	2. tattoo artists (jisoo/junhui)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> continuation of chapter 1
> 
> jisoo/junhui

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> edited and reposted - 1/25/17

Jisoo rubs the back of his head, slightly surprised when he feels the shaved half. He still can’t believe Mingyu managed to convince him to get it cut, because even the orange had been a major change for him, and for someone who just up and moved to Korea, it’s a little ridiculous that he’s…

…that he’s thinking about the stupidest things instead of acknowledging the fact that he’s now alone in the shop with Wen Junhui, since Jihoon left a few minutes ago and Minghao had the day off. Wen Junhui, the Chinese transplant lured in by his best friend and the promise of Art. Wen Junhui, budding tattoo artist who had never touched a needle and ink in his life until a few weeks ago but had a stunning portfolio and took to it like a duck to water. Wen Junhui, with his floppy bangs and large, teasing eyes, and sly smile, and defined hips and -

Shit.

He coughs, instead of spewing things like let’s make out or dude, you’re so cute, into the quiet air between them. Junhui’s head shoots up from his sketchbook.

“Are you alright?” His words are still accented but crisper than Jisoo’s were when he first moved. The leftover sound of Junhui’s home country charms him unreasonably, and he coughs into his fist again to stop from doing something stupid, like whimpering.

“Yeah, no, I’m good. It’s good. I’m fine.”

Junhui smiles a stupid, stupid, curled, soft smile. “I got it, hyung. You’re alright. Let me know if you need anything, okay?”

It’s all so cute, so damn cute, that Jisoo isn’t sure if the tingling is his stomach is nerves or if he’s dying of pancreatic cancer, which he might actually prefer to this embarrassment. “Alright.” The smile grows wider, and Jisoo gets a tiny bit more nauseous.

Something in the back of Jisoo’s head snaps, maybe from the light blush on Junhui’s cheeks, or the undisturbed air of the shop, or the sheer intensity of the buzzing in his ears, but he opens his mouth to say something, anything -

\- but the door to the shop opens with a ding! and two boys stumble in, neither over the age of 22, hanging off each other in a way that can only be described as intimate. They’re yelling over each other, each one trying to outdo the other.

“I told you! I fucking told you that-”

“I didn’t believe that your tiny body could hold so many pancakes. I mean, look at-”

“My tiny body? _Excuse me?”_

The English is sprinkled in, and it’s clear that one of them is fluent and the other is not. “Your English is low quality -”

“Low quality?! I’m the BEST QUALITY!”

“Can I help you gentleman?” Jisoo breaks in, causing them both to stop and look at him. They have glassy eyes, and the slurred quality of their speech indicates _drunk, bad ideas, don’t tattoo them, just apologize and show them the door_ but the talking starts again before he can speak up.

“I bet him he couldn’t eat 75 pancakes in an hour-”

“I just wanted to hook up but I couldn’t turn down a challenge like that are you fucking kidding me I’m the best quality-”

“Anyways, I bet him he couldn’t eat 75 pancakes but he bet me that I couldn’t do it either, so we both ended up eating 75 pancakes-”

“And now we have to get each other’s name tattooed on our asses, but I’m still getting fucked tonight so who’s the real winner?”

Jisoo wants to say no so badly. He should say no. If if he was a good person he would say no, but he looks over at Junhui, who’s laughing so hard that he’s bent in half, making no noise, and Jisoo is so utterly infatuated that he hears “who wants to go first?” coming from his mouth.

Shit.

The smaller one yelps, literally flinging himself forward to lay atop the counter, ID and cash in hand. “I, Boo Seungkwan, volunteer as tribute.” His friend snorts, but doesn’t protest. Junhui sobers up enough to start prepping a table, but he’s still shaking with giggles. Jisoo firmly believes that Wen Junhui was put on the planet to destroy him, because what else would be the point of this blatant torture, really? Truly, he can’t be blamed for anything that happens beyond this point because he’s so out of his mind with how precious -

\- “Hyung? Hello?” Jisoo startles at Junhui’s hand waving in his face. “Seungkwan is ready.”

“Hell yes I’m ready, son!” Ready to have some stranger’s name tattooed on your ass for eternity? he thinks, but snaps his gloves on anyways. There’s a cover over everywhere except the section of skin being tattooed, and Jisoo thanks Junhui a thousand times over because after everything he’s been through tonight, the last thing he needs to see is some random drunk guy’s bare ass.

“I want it big, bold, and loud. Like me!” Seungkwan shouts, and Jisoo just nods, prepping the skin with an alcohol pad.

“This might hurt.” In spite of the large but fairly simple design, between the spontaneous kisses his friend - Hansol, apparently - gives him, and his loud exclamations of how goddamn much it hurts fuck why do people ever, it takes a good half an hour.

All the while, Junhui just watches, laughing when Seungkwan says something stupid and looking on with fond eyes when he’s otherwise occupied, and Jisoo finds it hard to concentrate.

Tattoos are the one thing Jisoo can just lose himself in. All his focus goes to one single drawing, and to not have it this time, to have a good majority of it on the boy giggling from the table behind him, trips him up.

_Shit._

Hansol’s goes relatively quicker, mostly because Seungkwan cried when he tried to sit, and therefore did not try to make out with Hansol whatsoever. Jisoo feels sort of bad, but also feels like if Seungkwan wanted to bang, he should have considered getting a tattoo in a more convenient location. In an hour or two, the bleeding would stop and they’d be so drunk they wouldn’t feel it anyways. As long as no one tries to slap anyone else’s ass, they’d be alright.

“Remember to lotion it every 6 hours or so, and try not to violently harm the tattoos,” Junhui lists, not that either of the boys will remember in the morning.

Hansol smirks, opening his mouth to say something probably filthy and borderline publicly offensive, but Jisoo slaps a hand over his mouth. “Thank you for your business, come again, maybe when you’re not drunk and off a bet.”

They leave in the same cloud of noise they came in, and Jisoo turns to Junhui, fully intending to talk about what just happened.

He doesn’t get the words out.

Instead, Junhui launches himself across the gap between them and kisses Jisoo with a ferocity generally associated with rabid animals. He pulls back just as spontaneously, face flushed an unhealthy red.

“I’m so sorry, hyung, I-”

This time, it’s Jisoo who doesn’t let finish

"Idiot,” Junhui gasps when they break apart. “We could’ve been doing this for weeks. You’ve liked me all this time?”

“I’ve been so obvious! Literally all I do is stare at you!”

“I just thought- I don’t know, that you were staring at me because I was new, or something.”

Jisoo laughs breathily, resting his forehead on Junhui’s. “Oh, and you call me the idiot?”

And Junhui just smiles that stupid, stupid, curled, soft smile.


	3. heroes and villains (jisoo/jeonghan)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt from dailyau.tumblr.com: “I’m the superhero’s sidekick and you’re the super villain but i don’t know that and we both met on an online dating website and you look really familiar?” AU
> 
> jisoo/jeonghan 
> 
> by far the least conceivable situation, and not just because of the hero/villain thing.

Jeonghan’s got his chin in his palm, a distracted smile on his face as he listens to the story his date is telling. He’s trying to pay attention, he really is, but there’s something about the guy that is so familiar that’s it’s killing him. Even when he was just a profile picture on match.com, there was something that struck Jeonghan, that made him think _maybe, maybe I know this guy_. But Hong Jisoo is a stranger to him, beyond their few texts. He isn’t a cashier at his grocery store, he’s not a regular at Jeonghan’s hair salon; there’s no connection he can imagine that would make Jisoo’s face look so familiar.

“So then, I told her that…” Maybe Jeonghan’s robbed him. It’s not inconceivable; he’s hit just about every rich guy’s house in town, and the suit Jisoo’s wearing tells him that his date isn’t slumming it on the regular. He said he was a civil servant, so more than likely he’s shown up to the scene after one of Jeonghan’s hits, or-

“Are you listening?” Jisoo looks more concerned than upset, head tilted slightly to the side in the best imitation of a puppy Jeonghan’s ever seen.

“Yeah, sorry. Just a little distracted. Are you sure we’ve never met?”

Jisoo nods, but chuckles softly. “I’m sure. I’d remember you if we had.” And, _cheesy_ , but Jeonghan blushes all the same. “It’s funny, though, because you do look strangely familiar to me.”

Jeonghan snaps his fingers at him. “Exactly! I’m telling you, we know each other from somewhere. Work?”

“Aren’t you an art curator?” At Jeonghan’s affirmative, Jisoo shakes his head. “I know next to nothing about art, just that it gets stolen a lot in this city.” Jeonghan almost smirks, but reigns it in. “Have you been hit by the Artist before?”

Jeonghan sighs with what he hopes sounds like relief, instead of the smug laugh he’s trying to conceal. “Thankfully, I’ve escaped so far. I’m sure it’s only a matter of time. What about you? Civil service.” He tries not to make it sound like a sneer. “How much time do you spend cleaning up after him? Or her?” he adds hurriedly. No reason to be handing out free details about his identity if he can help it.

“More time than we spend chasing them, unfortunately. Seungcheol, my boss, and I seem to be on constant post-explosion duty than anything else.”

And suddenly, Jeonghan is on edge. He only knows one person in the city with the name Seungcheol, and it’s not someone he wants to be close to. “Oh? What exactly is it you do?”

Jisoo scrubs his face with his hands before smiling apologetically. “Can’t really say, beyond civil service. We try to pick up the police’s slack, you know?”

Jeonghan begins nodding an unnatural amount, shoveling his pasta into his mouth at breakneck speed. Jisoo’s smile turns into a confused frown. “Um, are you alright?” He just waves his free hand at him, nodding some more, as if that’ll be enough to reassure Jisoo.

He’s a criminal mastermind who’s gotten away with countless high profile robberies, but at the first sign of danger he panics? Pathetic. _Stupid_ , he thinks. _He’s onto you. Ffffffffff-_

“You can go, if you want. I wouldn’t be offended if you don’t like me. Alright, maybe a little but-”

“It’s not you, it’s me.” Jisoo freezes, and Jeonghan almost takes his fork and stabs it into his own chest right there. _Nice one, jackass_. “I mean, I like you, but um, I really, um-”

Jisoo stands up, laying cash on the table, enough for both meals and tip, and Jeonghan feels like such an _asshole_. “I get it. It was nice to meet you, Yoon Jeonghan.” His sincere smile only makes it worse, but Jeonghan can’t be dating his arch-enemy’s _sidekick_ , for god’s sake.

But as he watches Jisoo’s slim form leave the restaurant, there’s a sick feeling curled in his stomach that he’s not going to admit is regret.

-

Jeonghan sits patiently in the center of his own gallery, having tripped the alarm nearly five minutes ago. It’s funny, because when he’s actually trying to rob a place, S.coups and Joshua show up in approximately 30 seconds, but the one time he wants them to appear, they’re nowhere to be seen.

Finally, he hears the door being kicked in, and he huffs. He literally left it unlocked so that idiot S.coups wouldn’t break it down. He stands up and turns to a painting, grabbing at it like he’s going to take it off the wall. “Freeze!”

Shittiest superhero line in existence, if you ask Jeonghan.

“Never!” he yells back, just to keep up appearances, and also to fuck with Seungcheol because he’s so easy to rile up.

Coming in through the skylight is Joshua, much more subtly than his partner. Jeonghan almost wouldn’t have noticed if it hadn’t been for Seungcheol yelling, “GET HIM, JOSHUA!” Dumbass.

He waits, face covered by shadow, until Jisoo gets right behind him. When Jeonghan can hear his breath, he rips off his mask and spins, mashing his lips against Jisoo’s. “I told you,” he says, when he pulls back. “It’s not you, it’s me.” And when Jisoo comes back to his senses, looking angry, but more confused and stunned than anything else, Jeonghan laughs. “Just arrest me, idiot.”

-

“What a shit origin story,” Soonyoung scoffs, from his seat on the edge of the roof. Jeonghan leans over and pushes him off, laughing at his yelp. Soonyoung floats back up a few seconds later, reclaiming his spot.

“It’s not an origin story, it’s a couple story. And it’s _romantic_ ,” Minghao sighs. Soonyoung glares at his partner.

  
“It’s still shit,” he grumbles. And everyone laughs when this time, Minghao is the one to push him over.


	4. rivals pt 1 (soonyoung/junhui)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt from dailyau: we're rivals from different dance schools and you're kind of standing in the way of my scholarship and it's stressing me out au 
> 
> OKAY SO HERES THE THING ABOUT THIS ONE. There's next to no Junhui/Soonyoung interaction. It's incredibly heavily implied, but there's about no actual screen time of them. However I lowkey ship this a lot bc they are my two #1s in seventeen so they may be 1/4 of the pairings I revisit.
> 
> (What is it with me and writing from the complete wrong pov for the prompt )

Soonyoung bursts out of the dorm room, screaming at the top of his lungs. He might be trying to say something, but if he is, Chan can't tell what. The look in his eyes is akin to something that one might see in a caged animal. 

"Hyung, what's wrong?" Chan looks out the door nervously, because it's only 7 am and he's lowkey afraid someone is going to come into the hallway and murder them both. 

Soonyoung controls himself, but he's still panting and twitching. "You know that showcase? The one with all those scholarship assessors?" And _of course_ Chan knows about the showcase because it's all Soonyoung has been talking about for the last three months. "Well, they released the final performance list. And you know who goes right after me? Wen Junhui." 

Chan watches as Soonyoung nods, letting it sink in more, and then immediately bursts into tears. 

The thing about Wen Junhui is that he and Soonyoung have been rivals since they were neighborhood children. Soonyoung told Junhui that he would never be a good dancer. Junhui took the diplomatic high road and kicked him in the shin. Many a drunken night has Chan had to listen to Soonyoung whine about how good Junhui is and how he was only a child, it shouldn't mean anything. But Chan has seen Junhui dance, and he's seen him watch Soonyoung dance, and he knows that that moment was when Junhui decided to be a better dancer than Soonyoung. 

Soonyoung is still crying five minutes later. Chan closes the door to the dorm and gets back in bed. He'll get over it. 

\- 

Soonyoung has a Breakdown: Part 2 a week before the showcase, this time out of sheer stress. "I don't know what I'm going to do if I don't get the scholarship, Channie. It's all I've ever wanted." 

Chan softly pats his back and waits for Soonyoung to pick himself up off the practice room floor. 

"Junhui's going to get the scholarship. I'm nowhere near being done perfecting the choreography and I bet he's relaxing on the couch, with his stupid, perfect face-" 

"What?"

"Stupid, perfect choreography," Soonyoung corrects, as if he hadn't just called his rival's face perfect, "doing nothing. I might as well not even show up." 

"We'll talk about _that_ later," Chan says pointedly, "but also I'm going to call you on your bullshit right now. Your choreography is spot on, you know it is, you designed it. And do you really think Junhui is working any less hard than you are? Actually, he's probably working harder than you because you're lying here on the floor and not practicing at all." 

Soonyoung just whimpers into the wood flooring, and Chan is smug because he makes the best truth tea anyone's ever not wanted to drink. 

-

Incoming text from _Minghao_ : i think junnie-hyung is going to cry.

Outgoing text to _Minghao_ : soonyoung-hyung already is its hilarious

Incoming text from _Minghao_ : lol glad I'm not the only one who finds this funny 

-

"LEE CHAN! WHERE IS MY PHONE?" Chan wakes up with a jolt to see Soonyoung standing over him, nose to nose. 

"Jesus, hyung. Isn't that it in your hand?" 

Soonyoung flushes dark red. "I knew that. Duh. I was seeing if you were awake. Are you ready to go?" 

Chan looks over at the clock, which reads 5:32 am. He throws his dirtiest glare at Soonyoung and pulls the covers over his head. "No. Because we don't have to leave for another 4 hours. Get out." 

"This is my room too!" 

"Not right now it isn't. Go practice or eat breakfast or something."

A blessed hush falls over the room. Twenty minutes later, Chan is finally drifting back to sleep....

"Okay! I've eaten! Let's go!" Soonyoung beams, bouncing back into the room and onto Chan's bed. 

"If murder was legal, I swear to God." But Chan rolls out of bed. 

Those four hours go by far more quickly than he would have guessed, but he didn't expect having to juggle an intense practice, brought on by Soonyoung's nervous energy, a small car breakdown issue, and another near-meltdown situation. In the blink of an eye, he's sitting two rows back, watching Soonyoung dance like his life depended on it. 

He can see the dance school reps discussing out of the corner of his eye, and he crosses his fingers. After watching the video Minghao sent of Junhui, he knows that Soonyoung needs all the help he can get. 

But when they call Junhui's name, no one appears on stage. The second time, still no one. After five minutes of crackling tension building in the room ( _Jun is supposed to be amazing, is he sick, is he hurt, where is he, where is he, where is he_ ) the MC moves on. 

To Chan's surprise, Soonyoung doesn't show up either, not even after three more performances. He stands up, fully intending to go look for him, when he spots Minghao in the corner, who simply waves his phone at him. 

Chan opens the last text and falls back into his chair. 

Incoming message from _Minghao_ : soonyoung-hyung will probably meet you later but he's kind of busy rn  
_Attachment: 1 image_

"Gross."


	5. rivals pt 2 (soonyoung/junhui)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hey y'all so here are some things:  
> 1\. last chapter was also soonyoung/junhui, i know.  
> 2\. this is a part 2 because i was so unsatisfied with how the first drabble turned out. so this is from the other side of the story, where shit goes down and gets explained.  
> 3\. if all goes to plan i will be posting a 2nd drabble tonight (can i get a woot woot for jihoon/seokmin)  
> 4\. i bumped the chapter count up to 80 partly because of situations like this chapter and also because im 90% sure i miscounted and that there's 78 pairings and not 76. idk math man i'm trusting the numbers on the list in my google docs.  
> 5\. this got pumped out today because of the four commenters, so i want to say thanks to them! also, everyone who's read/left kudos. y'all give me the energy and motivation to keep it up every day.  
> 6\. i'll fight anyone who tells me minghao and junhui aren't total chinese bros irl   
> 7\. this is so dialogue heavy but i like it so that's how it is.  
> 8\. formatting stuff on this website sucks you guys so it looks bad :( i'm sorry 
> 
> ANYWAYS. enjoy!!

"Minghao. Bro. You gotta help me out."

"Bro, no. I have to finish this choreography because it's due in four hours and you know how Professor Kim gets."

"Bro." Junhui flung himself onto Minghao's lap across the couch, earning a smack on the ass and then a pat on the head.

"Dude, I'm serious. Get off. I'll help you in four hours."

Junhui got up, heaving a sigh as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders and not the weight of four hours. " _Fine._ " He stalked out of the apartment, disgruntled. Minghao rolled his eyes

Hours later, he stood up and stretched. Junhui still hadn't come back to the apartment, which was fine by-

"Minghao! Bro! You're done!" Junhui beamed, flinging open the apartment door.

"Were you sitting outside the door?"

Junhui ignored him, which meant yes. "Listen. I need your help. You know how I'm going for that scholarship? Well, I'm not anymore."

"Wait. What? Why not?" Minghao asked. Junhui glared at him like he should already know.

" _Because_ , idiot, I'm not even trying to get with that dance school anymore. You know? We aren't compatible. It wasn't going to work out."

"What does that even _mean_."

"It means that I got a better scholarship offer. That's not the point. I-"

"Bro! That's awesome!"

"You know what's not awesome? That Soonyoung thinks I'm still trying to get with that scholarship."

"So? Tell him."

"BRO. I can't just tell the _love of my life_ that I got a better scholarship than he did."

Minghao's jaw dropped. "Are you fucking with me right now, bro?"

"That's why I need your help. Listen, okay, so I need Soonyoung to do his best because he really wants it and he should work as hard as he can because he's amazing so I'm going to make him think I'm still in it to win it."

"What part of that includes me?"

"You're friends with Chan! You can fake that I'm still working to beat Soonyoung's ass!"

Minghao slapped his hands against his face and dragged them down. Junhui looked at him with the biggest puppy dog eyes he could muster, and he knew his best friend was going to give in. “Please, Hao. It would be the best thing ever in the whole world.”

Minghao just turned and stalked out the room, muttering under his breath. Junhui high-fived himself.

-

“Oh my god. Text him that I’m going to cry.”

“That’s messed up.”

“Please, bro.”

-

Outgoing message to _Chan_ : i think junnie-hyung is going to cry.

Incoming message from _Chan_ : soonyoung-hyung already is it’s hilarious

Outgoing message to _Chan_ : lol glad I’m not the only who finds this funny

-

“Soonyoung-hyung is crying because of you, you asshole.”

“ _Nonononononono-_ ”

“Bro, this was your idea. Suck it up. Actions have consequences.”

-

Junhui paced nervously backstage, puffing up with pride at all the applause Soonyoung’s performance got. He knew he’d be amazing. It was his Soonyoung they were talking about, after all.

Soonyoung walked off stage, only to freeze at the sight of Junhui. He relaxed slightly, though tension still sat across his shoulders and his mouth. “Good luck, Wen Junhui.”

“Oh me? I don’t need it.”

Soonyoung laughed, slightly mocking. “I know. You’re the best.”

“Nah. I mean I am, but I don’t need luck because I’m not performing.” Soonyoung just stared, and Junhui’s smile grew blinding. “Yeah, I got this scholarship from another school, one not too far away from the school where the guy I’m into is about to get a scholarship to.”

Soonyoung’s small smile faded. “Ah. Well, congratulations. I hope it works out between you two.”  
He was about to walk away when Junhui started talking again. “He’s got the driest blonde hair in the world, and he wears these ugly headbands when he’s rehearsing. He’s a great dancer, you know. He looks like a duck and he’s got an eye smile that would make a sinner turn to God, and one time I kicked him in the shin. You know, just to show him who’s boss.”

Soonyoung’s grin had blown wide. “Oh really? Is he a better dancer than you?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” Junhui stepped closer until they were nose to nose. “Maybe.”

Soonyoung spun him around until his back was pressed against the wall. “He’s probably not.”

Neither of them said much after that.

-

Outgoing message to _Chan_ : soonyoung-hyung will probably meet you later but he’s kind of busy right now  
_Attachment: 1 image_


	6. pumpkins (jihoon/seokmin)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt from dailyau.tumblr.com: it's autumn and we're both picking pumpkins but you picked one that's as big as you and you're struggling do you need help with that?
> 
> does this not scream jihoon
> 
> (and yea i knocked the 2nd half of this out in like 20 minutes #godbless)

Seokmin’s favorite time of year is fall, when he can see watch the leaves on the trees outside his window change color and smell the crisp, clean air when he goes outside. He loves the nip of cold just starting to set in, so that he can break out his ugliest sweaters and laugh when Wonwoo and Seungkwan flinch at the sight. Today’s sweater is thick knit in a particularly blinding shade of mustard yellow. He adores it.

But there’s nothing Seokmin loves so much as picking pumpkins. 

Finding the biggest one he can occupies him for hours, and it gives him a break from his flatmates, because they wouldn’t set foot in a pumpkin patch for a million dollars. Not that he doesn’t love them, but sometimes. Sometimes a man just can’t take the yelling and the Beyonce anymore. 

He finds himself driving to the pumpkin farm, a blessedly short 20 minutes outside the city. Seokmin already feels so much more at peace before he even gets there, just enjoying the view of the orange and yellow leaves settled along the side of the road. When he gets there, he’s slightly surprised to see another car already parked. A man with pink hair is perusing the pumpkin patch, knocking every third or fourth pumpkin with his knuckles as he walks by. He’s small, and Seokmin thinks that if he stood next to him, he’d have to look straight down to look him in the eyes. 

“Good morning!” Seokmin yells, and the man’s head shoots up. He’s got a baby face, too. It’s cute. “Gorgeous weather for picking pumpkins, huh?” 

The guys shrugs and continues knocking on pumpkins. _Alright then._ Seokmin forgets about him after a few minutes, entranced with the patch, until he nearly runs the man over.

“I’m so sorry!” He can’t see any of his pink hair, let alone his face, over the enormous pumpkin in his arms. He bows hurriedly in apology anyways. It’s a miracle that the pumpkin hasn’t fallen to the ground, because as it is, it’s swaying dangerously in the man’s arms. “Um, do you need some help with that?”

“No! Jesus, why do people think I can’t do anything by myself? First Jeonghan, then Jisoo, now you, someone I don’t even know. Unbelievable.” The man begins to stomp away, struggling to hold the pumpkin aloft. “Just because small people look incapable doesn’t mean we are, I swear to God why will no one leave me….” The rants trails off as the man gets farther away, leaving Seokmin standing in shock. 

He watches, amused and horrified, as the man’s pumpkin tumbles to the frozen ground, smashing immediately. Seokmin hears every word he says after that, none he’d be interested in repeating. The guy turns to see if he’s watching, an angry flush and a sheepish look on his face.

Seokmin laughs, because really, it’s funny. “I asked!” he shouts. The stranger scowls, but there’s no bite to it. He walks over to the scene, avoiding pumpkin gut splatter. “I was honestly just trying to help, not to mock your size or anything.” 

The man shrugs. “Yeah, I know. I just get easily annoyed. The whole reason I’m out here is because if I had stayed at home I would have stabbed both my roommates in the face. I can only take so much pity when I can’t reach the goddamn crackers, which everyone knows only I eat so I don’t know why they keep getting put on the top shelf.”

“Mine listen to either too much Destiny’s Child or too much Pierce the Veil. There is no in-between.” 

They both chuckle, bonding over the roommate struggle. “Lee Seokmin.”

“Lee Jihoon. Hey, listen, can I buy you a coffee? To make up for being an asshole?” 

Seokmin smiles. “I’d like that.” He’s about to take out his phone so they can exchange numbers when Jihoon freezes. “What?”

“The farmer is here,” Jihoon whispers. “I’m not paying for that pumpkin, damn it, I didn’t even get it to my car.”

“That’s your own fault. Be a good person, Jihoon, because I’m not paying for it either.” 

“First one to their car gets away with it,” and with that, Jihoon takes off running. 

“Unfair!” But he’s laughing as he yells it. 

Seokmin ends up paying for the pumpkin, but Jihoon pays for the coffee. And the next four coffees after that.


	7. author (wonwoo/seungcheol)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (dailyau.tumblr.com) i'm a writer and when it gets close to my deadline i neglect taking care of myself so you pop into my house every so often to make sure i'm doing ok AU
> 
> wonwoo/seungcheol
> 
> written from the wrong pov again bc that seems to be a thing i'm into doing. sorry it's so short idk some prompts i can really get into and some i just end up not going as far with.   
> thanks for your kind comments and leaving kudos!! it means the world to me (:  
> watch out for at least soonyoung/chan tonight hopefully i'll get it done idk i have a lot of math homework  
> (im going to run out of performance team x performance team ships soon oh no)

Seungcheol stands outside the apartment building, looking straight up. Only one window is lit up, which means Wonwoo is still awake at this godforsaken hour. He sighs and heads in. The building is deathly silent, all the way until he gets to Wonwoo's door. He can hear pounding music and the frantic tapping of a keyboard.

Ah, yes, Seungcheol's favorite time of year: deadline week.

He doesn't bother knocking, partly out of familiarity with the situation and partly because he doesn't want to disturb Wonwoo. He places his grocery bags in the kitchen and makes his way into the dining area, where the resident of the apartment sat at a computer.

Wonwoo didn't even stop typing, but he turned the music down and smiled at Seungcheol. It was an exhausted, drained smile, but it was a smile all the same.

"Hey, baby. How are you feeling?"

"Like shit. I don't know if I've ever connected to a character as much as I have to these. And now I have to kill one of them."

"Too late to change the plot?"

Seuncgcheol knows the answer, because he asks every time, but it gets Wonwoo away from his book and out of his own head for a few minutes.

"Yes! Of course! The plot is entirely hinged upon this pivotal scene of sacrifice and..." Seungcheol tunes him out and heads back to the kitchen to cook him real food, because Lord knows his boyfriend hasn't eaten anything except instant ramyun and coffee.

"Babe. Babe. Babe. Babe. Babe. Babe. Babe. Ba-"

" _What?_ " Seungcheol shouts.

"Is it cold outside?"

Seunghcheol takes a while to answer. "Yes, and rainy. But there's almost no breeze. It's creepy how still the air is, really."

One of Seungcheol's favorite things about Wonwoo is that no matter how deeply he's ingrained in his story, he takes time and asks for a detail from Seungcheol, sometimes small, sometimes ones that can change the whole makeup of the story. And no matter what his answer is, it shows up in the final draft. So when Wonwoo asks about the weather when he's writing, he's not actually interested in what it feels like outside. When he asks what's for dinner, he doesn't care what Seungcheol's cooking.

Seungcheol smiles down at the stove. He knows Wonwoo is pushing as hard as he can to get his novel done, but it feels good to be included. “Hey, come eat!”

“In a minute…” The reply comes from the dining area distractedly. 

“Come on. The tragedy can wait until tomorrow, or at least later.” 

Seungcheol doesn’t have to hear that Wonwoo loves him, because he sees it in the way that Wonwoo shows up in the kitchen a moment later, stretching his arms and back, novel put aside for a while despite the pressing deadline. 

“Are you going to keep working tonight?”

Wonwoo nods, but his head is falling towards the table and his eyes are drooping. When he barely catches himself after almost falling face-first into his bowl, Seungcheol puts his foot down.

“Let’s get you to bed, baby.” He practically has to drag Wonwoo to the bed, the man a near dead weight in his arms. It’s only once they’ve both snuggled under the covers, jeans still on because it’s too much effort otherwise, does Wonwoo speak.

“I don’t know what I would do without you, you know.” Seungcheol smiles, kissing his boyfriend on the crown of his head. “I’m serious, hyung,” he protests drowsily. “You feed me and make sure I sleep and see daylight. And all of my best characters act like you. All of my writing, none of it would have happened without you.”

“Taking care of you makes me happy. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be right now.” 

“Love you. Thanks…” Wonwoo yawns noisily, “for the weather earlier.”

“Oh, actually, I was wrong about that. It was sunny and warm, no rain or clouds to be seen. Plenty of breeze, too.” Seungcheol has to chuckle at Wonwoo’s indignant huff. “What, too late to change the plot?”

“Of course… the setting is one of the most… influ… influential pieces of…” He’s asleep before he can even finish telling Seungcheol why it would be impossible to change anything.

“Sleep well, baby.”


	8. cuddling: 5+1 (soonyoung/chan)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> five times chan doesn't want to be cuddled and one time he does. 
> 
> soonyoung/chan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK PLEASE DONT GET ME WRONG I LOVE CHAN SO MUCH HE IS MY HEART AND SOUL MY SON THAT I GAVE LIFE TO I ADORE HIM WITHMY ENTIRE BODY  
> but that is not enough to stop me from writing this angst riddled sadness of a drabble.  
> i put on the saddest playlist i could manage, add to that how shoddy i've been feeling, and you have this mess that just flowed out of my fingers. it was supposed to be sort of funny but we all can see how that turned out.  
> i really hope chan is loved and appreciated in real life because he is a talented young bunny who is nothing like the view this chan has of himself. 
> 
> WARNINGS: self-hate, extreme doubting of oneself, general sadness. i'm incredibly apologetic. 
> 
> (i really do love lee chan, i swear to you.)

**One.**  
Chan’s head hangs low as Jihoon chews him out for the nth time. Cracked note, not strong enough, too nasally; each comment stings worse than the last. 

Jihoon sighs. “Just take a break. We’ll try again later.” Chan nods, holding back tears. He listens for the studio door to click shut before sliding down the wall, choked breaths escaping his throat. It would be so much easier if he was a talented vocal like his hyungs, not just a dancer. The rest of the performance team could sing, why couldn’t he? What was the point of him being in Seventeen if he couldn’t sing one stupid line?

The tears clog his eyes and he laughs roughly. God, he can’t even take criticism like a man. He got it wrong and here he is, crying like a baby. _Useless._

A sharp knock on the door is the only thing keeping him from outright sobbing. He wipes his eyes and stands up. “Hello?” The door creaks open, and blonde hair appeared. 

“Chan-ah? Are you alright?” Soonyoung steps inside, closing the door behind him. 

“Yeah, I’m fine. I just couldn’t get the line right, it’s no big deal. Jihoon-hyung should be back in a couple minutes, I’ll get it next time.” Soonyoung doesn’t look like he believes a word of it, but he smiles and nods. Chan pretends not to see the sadness and pity in it. 

“We’ve all had those moments. You’ll do perfect on the next try.” Soonyoung puts his arms out and pulls Chan into his chest. He stands stiffly in the embrace, trying his damnedest not to start crying again. After a few seconds, he pulls away. 

Soonyoung’s smile is tinged with something else that Chan can’t put a finger on. “Chan-ah, fighting!” Chan acts like it doesn’t take something out of him to watch him leave. 

**Two.**  
The stage was slippery, Wonwoo had left his damn sweat all over the place, the traction on his shoes was worn from wearing the same shoes to perform all the time; they made a million excuses for his fall on the way back to the dorm from the fanmeet. 

No matter what they said, Chan knew he had fallen because he had gotten the move wrong and tripped over his own feet. He had never felt an embarrassment so acute as when he had hit the stage, chin smacking the hardwood. His head hurts, and it’s only partly a physical pain. 

He feels arms wrap around him from behind and he immediately pushes them off, unthinkingly. He turns around to apologize to see a blonde head leaving the room, and he calls out too late. 

(When he comes out of his room in search of food, after everyone else is asleep, he sees the same head asleep on the table, next to a plate of something that had probably been reheated hours earlier. The note next to it simply reads 미안. Chan inhales deeply and walks away.)

**Three.**  
The package comes at exactly the wrong time. Chan opens it to see letters from his family, the top one from his mother. 

_I’m so proud of you, son_ , it reads, and Chan is already hanging on an emotional thread as it is. These are going to be the scissors that snip it straight in half. _We watch you on all the music shows whenever we can; it’s so nice to see your face. Do you know when you might get a break? Your aunt is asking about…_

That’s all he can get through before it becomes too much. 

His face is buried in his pillow but he still hears the knock on the doorframe. “Hey, the van is gonna be here - Chan?” 

“Coming, hyung.” 

There’s no reply, but the footsteps make it across the room and he feels a weight settle next to him. “Seungcheol-hyung said the president was talking about a break after these promotions. It’d be nice, wouldn’t it?” 

A hand comes to rest on his head and fingers begin to card softly through his hair. It feels nice, but it’s not his mother, and right now that’s the only touch he craves. He wonders how to politely tell Soonyoung to stop, but the elder seems to sense it and gets up before he can say anything. 

“I’ll tell them you’re sick, yeah? The hyungs will understand. Feel better, Chan-ah.” The door to his room clicks closed. Chan squeezes his eyes shut and regrets not asking Soonyoung to stay.

**Four.**  
Chan sits straight up in bed, choking on the scream stuck in his throat. The clock beside his bed reads _2:34 AM_ and he sinks back onto his pillow, breathing heavily.

His nightmares aren’t about monsters or his own death; he thinks those might be easier to deal with. Instead he dreams of failing, of being kicked out of the company, of watching as all the members laugh and breathe in relief. _Finally,_ the nightmare whispers. _He’s gone._ He dreams of his family shaking their heads when he comes home. _A disappointment,_ his father scolds. _You really can’t do a thing, can you?_ He dreams of every door he tries to open shutting in his face, windows he’s always looked through locked tightly and the curtains drawn. 

He concentrates on his breathing, in and out, in and out, until he calms down. It isn’t until he rolls over that he notices another figure in his bed, breaths even. 

“Soonyoungie-hyung. Go to your own bed. I’m alright.”

The occupant of his bed cracks an eye open. “I heard you screaming… are you okay?”

Chan curses inwardly. He woke people up. Of course. 

“I’m fine, I promise.” But Soonyoung is already asleep again. Unconsciously, he slings his arm over the maknae protectively. It makes Chan’s throat close up again, and his breaths threaten to quicken. 

No one says anything when they wake up and Chan is curled on the bathroom floor, but the looks he sees them shoot Soonyoung tell him that they know. 

**Five.**  
He hates movies like this. They make him sappy and annoyed at the same time, and he mopes for ages afterwards for no discernable reason. 

“Why do all your favorite movies involve terminal illnesses and/or families being torn apart?”

Jisoo shrugs, putting more popcorn in his mouth, eyes fixated on the screen. “I guess it makes me grateful for what I have. You know, healthy members who love each other, my family in California, all that.” 

Chan wants to scoff but it’s such a heartfelt answer that he can’t do anything but sit back and shut up. Now he’s even more irritated because Jisoo made so much sense that it hurts. 

The front door opens and Soonyoung walks in. Before he even takes off his scarf, he rolls his eyes. “Hyung, I thought we agreed that you weren’t going to watch _The Last Song_ while anyone else is awake or home anymore.” 

Jisoo shrugs again, eating more popcorn. He makes no move to even pause the movie, so Soonyoung just rolls his eyes and leaves. As soon as he can tear his eyes away from the turtles, Chan follows. He finds Soonyoung in their room, curled up on his bunk.

“Chan-ah~ Come cuddle with me.” If he wasn’t so frustrated from watching that stupid movie, he would have said yes. But this time the idea of sitting in Soonyoung’s arms ticked him off.

“Um no. No thanks, I mean. Hyung.” 

Soonyoung nods and pulls the blankets up to his chin, as if defending himself from the sting of Chan’s abruptness. “Alrighty.” 

Chan thinks maybe he shouldn’t be so damn sensitive about Jisoo’s dumb movies.

**Plus One**

It’s only after the girl plays the song on the piano that Chan calms down, mostly because watching Jisoo sob like a baby over the hospital scene was slightly hilarious. He suppresses his laughter and sneaks away back to the bedroom. 

The light is still on, which mean Soonyoung didn’t go to sleep like Chan had thought (hoped). It was a little embarrassing to admit that he actually did, in fact, want to cuddle. 

“Soonyoungie-hyung?” The blonde looks up from his notebook and smiles, setting his choreography aside. 

“Come here, sweetheart.”

(He doesn’t say anything but Soonyoung’s arms feel like home.)


	9. the penis game (jeonghan/hansol)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> dailyau.tumblr.com: "you and your friends have been playing the penis game for the last five minutes and none of you have gotten above a quiet yell and i'm really just trying to study over here so i'm gonna put an end to this by winning the game" AU
> 
> jeonghan/hansol

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what even is this idk i just wanted to get it written but it's ugly im sorry
> 
> im so sick it's not funny i have no motivation to edit.

"Penis." Jeonghan's head shoots up the first time he hears it, confused. Did he hear that right? He's about to go back to reading when he hears it again.

"Penis."

_Ah fuck._ Jeonghan drops his head to lay on his book. This is the literal last thing he needs right now because his statistics test is in 14 hours and he's read approximately two sentences of the chapter. He came to the library expecting to get away from this type of immaturity (he shouldn't have said yes when Seungkwan asked to room with him but god forbid he say no to those eyes), but here he is, listening to the idiots at the next table over play the penis game.

The next go is a little louder, but still a wimpy attempt. "Penis!" The 4 boys around the table break into giggles. Unbelievable.

He stares hopefully at the librarian walking by, but she’s apparently oblivious to the shouts of male genitalia coming from two feet behind her. He hears it again, and gnashes his teeth. He’d switch tables but all his notes are spread out and his laptop and phone are both already plugged in. It would be an enormous waste of time to pack it all up and move.

No one has gotten above a quiet shout, but the yells are coming with higher frequency, and he’s about to lose it. It’s not until no one will get any louder that he puts his foot down. 

“PENIS!” Jeonghan screams, and all motion in the library comes to an abrupt halt. All four boys from the table next to him stare with wide eyes, and he sees the librarian from earlier storming towards him. She grabs Jeonghan by the ear, and that’s when the original offenders burst into hysterical laughter. 

Within moments they’re all sitting outside the library, with orders not to come back for four months or until they get a reprieve from the dean. Jeonghan is glaring frostily at the group, and they’re staring guiltily at the ground. 

“What the hell compelled you to play the penis game in a library where people are clearly studying for statistics tests?”

“Hansol bet us we wouldn’t and then we did and now he owes us money and I really need it because I haven’t been able to afford the new Big Bang album and-” 

“Um, excuse me, but I think you all are the ones that owe me because you got me kicked out- Wait. Hansol? Chwe Hansol?”

One of them raises his hand, brows furrowed. “Yeah?”

“You’re the guy in Seungkwan’s microbiology class that he always talks about, oh my god, he says that, and I quote, ‘he admires your intense devotion to paper folding and your sick aim when you flick paper clips at people’s heads.’”

Hansol smiles. “It’s nice to be appreciated. How about I buy you lunch? You know, to make up for getting you kicked out and everything.”

Jeonghan laughs, surprised at the forwardness. “Sure.”

“What about my Big Bang album? I am not going to forget this, Chwe Hansol, you will rue this day-” 

“Shut up, Mingyu.”


	10. pick up lines (seungkwan/jihoon)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> dailyau.tumblr.com: I write a bad pick up line on your cup every time i'm your barista AU
> 
> seungkwan/jihoon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one and chan's chapter are my favorites by far. i hope y'all like this one because i just really, really do.
> 
> (the way to my heart is through shit pick up lines)

**Monday**

The first thing that should tip Jihoon off is that it takes the barista way too long to write his name. He brushed it off as his complicated order, but he was, sadly, wrong. 

The side of his soy white chocolate mocha with a triple shot of espresso reads _My doctor says I’m lacking Vitamin U. Mind filling my prescription?_

Jihoon takes one look at the barista, Seungkwan, according to his nametag, and tosses the coffee in the garbage. The barista’s face doesn’t fall like he expects. If anything, his smile gets wider, and he outright laughs when Jihoon flips him off. 

And if his coworkers look at him a little strangely when he smiles into his cup of shitty office coffee, well, who really cares?

**Tuesday**

He goes back the next day, hoping that Seungkwan won’t be at the counter. Because if he is, he’ll have to throw the coffee away again to make his point, and he really needs something besides the sludge at the studio.

“It’s you again!” No such luck. Seungkwan is already writing on a cup when it’s his turn to order. “What can I get you?” 

“Isn’t this like sexual harassment or something?” 

Seungkwan grins, unabashed. “Nah, not unless I talk about my dick or something. Why? You want me to?” 

“Oh my god. No. Jesus, you can’t talk to people like that, you know?” 

The barista waves his hand dismissively. “You want to try that mocha again or did you want something else?” Jihoon isn’t flattered that Seungkwan remembers his order at all, he really isn’t.

Jihoon shrugs, and Seungkwan punches the order into the cash register before finishing his writing on the cup with a flourish and passing it off. Within minutes, he hears his name called. Or rather, he knows it’s his order because instead of his name, a second barista calls out, “I like Legos, you like Legos, let’s build a relationship.” 

“That’s not even a good one,” Jihoon hears from behind the counter, but he doesn’t see who says it because he’s got his head buried in his hands. 

“They can’t all be winners, hyung.” 

For God’s sake. If his head didn’t hurt so badly and if he didn’t have to put up with Seungcheol today, he would have thrown it away again. But he settles for flipping Seungkwan off for a second time and glaring all the way out the door. 

**Wednesday**

Jihoon avoids the coffee shop. He’s not afraid to admit his weakness. He’s basing everything on Seungkwan working Wednesdays and having a day off later in the week, so today he’s tucked himself in the corner where no one will bother him with a cup of weak green tea. 

The last thing he needs is to get attached to the barista or something equally as stupid. 

He writes lyrics about mochas and sweet smiles before scowling at his paper and crumpling it up. Fucking dumb.

**Thursday**

He bet wrong. He bet so wrong it hurts. 

Seungkwan is standing at the counter, just like every other day, but this time his back is turned as he argues back and forth with another guy about the same age. “Low quality? I’m the best quality, Chwe Hansol, and you know it.” 

Jihoon clears his throat, making Seungkwan jump. “I’m so sorry- _Heeeey_ , cutie. Missed you yesterday.”

Hansol scoffs. “So damn unprofessional.”

“Yeah, and cursing at the counter isn’t. Get lost, idiot.” He tries as hard as he can, but Jihoon loses control of his muscles and his face slips into a smile. Seungkwan yelps, slapping his hand over his heart. “You _can_ smile!” 

Jihoon rolls his eyes. “Can I get a black coffee, triple shot?” 

Seungkwan nods, whistling admiringly as he writes what’s probably another pick up line on Jihoon’s cup. “That’s a lot. How come?”

“Deadline in five hours, and I barely slept last night.” It slips out of his mouth without him realizing it, and Jihoon wonders when he got this comfortable around Seungkwan, because he barely even tells his friends about how he feels. 

Jihoon is surprised, and mildly disappointed, when Hansol calls out his name and it’s just his name, nothing else. 

(It’s only a few hours later, when he’s submitted the track list and he’s clearing his desk of ramyun containers and coffee cups that he sees _Cutie, fighting! Get some rest~_ written around the bottom edge of one of the cups. He smiles the biggest he has in weeks.)

**Friday**

Jihoon looks in the window before he opens the door, heart quickening when he sees Seungkwan resting against the counter. He expects to be greeted with something, anything other than “Welcome to The Bean.” Seungkwan sounds so upset that Jihoon gets a sudden urge to gather him up and tuck him into bed. At the counter, Seungkwan says nothing other than, “Hi, what can I get for you today?” and Jihoon is so confused that he just blurts out the first thing that comes to mind. He isn’t exactly sure what it is. 

Hansol calls out his order again, but this time, Jihoon leans over the counter, side-eyeing Seungkwan, who still looks sad beyond belief. “Hey, is he alright?”

“Management threatened to fire him if he couldn’t keep it professional, and he really needs this job.” 

“Oh, shit.” Jihoon winces and can’t help but feel guilty, as if it’s his fault Seungkwan flirted with him.

“Yeah, man. If it helps, he really wants to go out with you. Like insanely bad. I can’t believe he’s controlling himself right now, he talks about you all the time.” 

Jihoon opens his mouth, but can’t think of anything to say. Instead, he just nods, picks up his coffee, and leaves.

**Saturday**

The bell above the door is familiar to Jihoon now, and he barely hears it as he enters the coffee shop for the fifth time that week. He almost wilts with relief that Seungkwan is at the counter, and it breaks his heart a little to hear the sad greeting for the second time.

“Hi, what can I get for you today?” 

“I’m no organ donor, but I’d be happy to give you my heart.” Seungkwan looks confused for all of two seconds before his face breaks into a grin.

“Oh, really?” 

“Yeah. I didn’t believe in angels, but that was before I met you. Are you going to kiss me, or do I have to lie to my diary? Did the sun come out or did you just smile at me? If you were a tear in my eye, I’d be afraid to cry because I might lose you. Was your father a thief, because someone stole the stars and put them all in your eyes. I must be in a museum because you’re a-”

Seungkwan is doubled over in laughter, slapping the counter. “I literally adore you.”

Jihoon beams. “Yeah, I’d like to order a date with you.” 

“Oh my god, _please stop_ ,” Seungkwan gasps, but he grabs a cup and writes something on in between spurts of giggles. “Have a nice day,” he manages, before dissolving into peals of laughter again. 

When Jihoon gets his cup, it’s empty. The ‘special order’ box is checked, and out to the side is written _Date with Boo Seungkwan_ and a phone number. It’s the best coffee Jihoon has ever tasted.


	11. history (soonyoung/wonwoo)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> dailyau.tumblr.com: i'm a history major and i keep getting into arguments with one of my classmates about things because they keep saying i'm wrong so i finally scream "how would you know" and the rest of this prompt spoils the fic and also it's long so i'm not gonna finish it
> 
> soonyoung/wonwoo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i started writing this from the wrong pov and i changed it at the end. i was going to go back and rewrite the first 2 parts and change from junhui's pov to wonwoo's but like i rlly like what i wrote so i just didn't
> 
> ft. nonbinary junhui n their cutie bf jisoo (YES I LOVE RARE PAIRS OBVIOUSLY pls anticipate a spin-off drabble bc i adore them)
> 
> translated into Vietnamese here: https://junggichann.wordpress.com/2015/12/29/trans-oneshot-wonyoung-history/  
> by jungiichann!

It’d be an odd scene to anyone else, but Junhui is used to it, mindlessly eating carrot sticks as they watch Soonyoung and Wonwoo scream at each other, textbooks in hand. 

“It says it in the book, idiot! How can it be wrong?” Soonyoung shouts, slapping the book with one hand and stomping his foot. “You think they just made it up for no good reason?”

“The British army never would have taken help from them, it’s so obvious, Soonyoung! Really, why would you even think that -”

“Maybe because the book says it? What a shock it is, Wonwoo, to believe things books say.” 

“Well, if the book wasn’t wrong, maybe I would believe it.” 

Soonyoung slams the textbook shut and flings it across the coffee table. “Whatever, fine, you’re right! The all-knowing Jeon Wonwoo, everyone! Bow to his superior intellect -”

Wonwoo leaps forward and kisses him, effectively cutting off his tirade, and Soonyoung melts into his arms. Their roommate rolls their eyes and turns away, waiting for the slamming of the door to look back.

Just a typical Thursday.

>

Junhui is lying on the couch, underneath their boyfriend, ecstatic because this is finally happening. They haven’t been ready for it, even though it’s been almost a year, but Jisoo has been so patient and sweet, and tonight is -

The door to the apartment bangs open, and with it comes the voices of Wonwoo and Soonyoung, arguing at the top of their lungs. Junhui almost snaps their own neck right then and there.

“Mary tried to assassinate Elizabeth, which is why she was executed, _of course_ they hated each other!”

Wonwoo shakes his head even as he heads into the kitchen, oblivious to Junhui’s deathly cold glares and Jisoo’s concerned gaze. “Wrong!” he yells, and his boyfriend flushes dark red. “Mary loved Elizabeth. She never would have tried to have her killed, no matter how much she wanted the crown.” 

“Absolute power corrupts absolutely, jackass! The throne would mean everything to her…” Soonyoung trails off as Wonwoo sticks his head out of the kitchen, not a trace of expression on his face. 

“What’d you call me?” 

“Oh, you don’t know? I thought you knew everything.” 

Junhui literally cannot believe this. They look at Jisoo apologetically, desperately hoping that their night isn’t ruined because of their dumb roommates, and they’re relieved to see nothing but sympathy and love returned. They pull on their boyfriend’s hand. 

“Yah! We’re leaving. I don’t know when I’ll be back, so don’t wait up. Figure this out, and don’t call me. I’ll be getting laid.” Soonyoung and Wonwoo are staring open-mouthed and Jisoo is blushing intensely, but Junhui thinks their point got across.

As soon as the door shuts behind them, the shouting picks back up. They sigh.

>

“I can’t believe you called me a jackass.” 

“I can’t believe you’re acting like one! You act like you know all about British History and I don’t know anything about it, when I’m the one majoring in it, and I don’t know what’s wrong with you.” Soonyoung tears up, and he’d be embarrassed if he wasn’t so frustrated. “How do you know Mary loved Elizabeth? What if she didn’t?” 

Wonwoo shakes his head vigorously. “She did.” 

“HOW DO YOU KNOW?” Soonyoung screams. 

“ _BECAUSE I WAS THERE!_ ” 

The apartment falls into a dead silence. Soonyoung stares, unblinking, and then starts laughing. Wonwoo opens his mouth to say something, but he stops. 

“Fine. You’re right. You were there. You know all about how much Mary loved Elizabeth, and whether or not the Scottish spies helped the British win the war, and everything else. I get it, Wonwoo, you think I’m stupid. But really? You think I’m this stupid?” Soonyoung shakes his head, still laughing in disbelief. 

Wonwoo holds his hands out, to grab Soonyoung’s shoulders, to do something, but the blonde backs away. 

“I’m… gonna go, I think. I’ll see you around, or something.” 

“Soonyoungie, wait.” 

“What could you possibly have to say to me after that?” 

Wonwoo doesn’t say anything. Instead, he inhales deeply and bares his teeth. Soonyoung watches, frozen and stock-still, as his boyfriend’s canine teeth elongate to sharp points in his mouth. Once he’s done, he looks at the blonde. “I really was there during all those things you talk about. I'm 619 years old." Wonwoo pauses, then smiles. "Still a ‘96 liner, though.” 

"You're a... you're a..." Soonyoung stutters.

"Say it. Say it out loud." Wonwoo almost chokes trying not to laugh. 

"A vampire." He can't help it; Twilight references get him every time. Wonwoo cracks up.

Soonyoung faints. 

>

“Once he recovered from the shock, he decided to switch majors. He couldn’t really handle his textbooks after I told him the real stories,” Wonwoo recounts to a captive audience of his great-grandchildren.

“Uncle Wonwoo, where is Uncle Soonyoung?” 

“He’s in Italy. The prime minister needed immediate surgery, or he’d be here right now. He misses you guys desperately.” 

The calendar on the wall reads December 24th, 2096, and Wonwoo looks no older than he had on the day his story took place. 

Neither does Soonyoung.


	12. weatherman (seungcheol/jeonghan)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> seungcheol has a crush on the morning weatherman.
> 
> seungcheol/jeonghan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM 12 PROMPTS BEHIND THIS IS NOT A DRILL
> 
> anyways yea im sorry for not posting i havent even been writing or anything. i started watching blood and i hate my life because of it tbh it's messing me up. anyways!  
> comments and kudos are the best thing that could happen to me rn bc i really want to finish this challenge i gave myself and those are the best motivation.
> 
> thanks you guys for reading and being patient!
> 
> ft. fem!soonyoung bc yea thanks.

It’s 4 am, and the entire apartment block is quiet, lights all off as everyone try to catch a few hours of sleep before work or school. All lights, except one.

The television in Room 33 is blasting at full volume, tuned in to the weather channel. Seungcheol watches with rapt attention as the pretty weatherman tells him that there’s a 15% chance of rain tomorrow, with a light cloud cover. Seungcheol couldn’t care less about whether or not he should carry an umbrella. All he cares about is how Yoon Jeonghan keeps his hair so shiny.

Seungcheol bets it smells nice too.

The tv is still blaring two hours later, when Hansol’s alarm goes off. Seungcheol jerks into consciousness, accidentally cracking his neck. He hisses in pain; his body is sick and tired of him falling asleep on the couch. He reaches for the remote and shuts it off. Jeonghan’s segment isn’t on again for another four hours anyways. 

Hansol comes out a few minutes later, drooping with exhaustion; he had been facetiming Seungkwan all night. “Hyung, you’ve got to start sleeping in an actual bed. Your room is like two feet away.” 

Seungcheol pouts. “But I like hearing his voice as I drift off.”

Used to his roommate’s creepy and stalker-esque attitude towards the morning weatherman, Hansol ignores him in favor of pouring coffee. Seungcheol sighs. He should get a job at the news station too. Maybe then Jeonghan would notice him. 

“Hansol, introduce me to Jeonghan.”

“No, freak. Stop asking me.” 

Seungcheol pouts again. Hansol rolls his eyes and leaves. He needs to find a new roommate, and soon.

***

“Hyung, turn it off. We have company,” Hansol hisses. 

“Hansol, Jeonghan is about to give the weekly forecast, I can’t miss-”

“You watched the weekly forecast at four this morning, and again at 10, you already know exactly what he says! You’re the number one expert on whether or not it’s going to be sunny this week. Shut the damn television off.” 

“Is that any way to speak to your elders,” Seungcheol mutters darkly, but he turns it off. Hansol returns k to talking about his obsession with Jeonghan to Seungkwan and Mingyu, both of whom are trying, and blatantly failing, to smother laughter.

“Hyung, you like to listen to his voice as you go to sleep? Cute,” Seungkwan squeaks, nearly suppressing a laugh, but it slips out and is quickly changed into a cough. “Sorry, I need some water,” he whispers.

Everyone hears him laughing hysterically in the kitchen.

“It’s not that unbelievable,” Seungcheol protests weakly. “I mean, you like to listen to Drake when you sleep, that’s-”

“Completely different, don’t try to fucking lie your way out of this, Seungcheollie-hyung,” Mingyu snorts. “You are taking this too far. Creep game level maximum.”

“I need to hang out with people who are my age,” Seungcheol mumbles to himself. “These disrespectful children, I can’t believe I’m being attacked like this. You come into my house…” 

“That’s the incorrect use of that meme, idiot.”

“Chwe Hansol, I swear to God-” 

“If you stop talking, I’ll let you turn the weather channel back on.” 

Seungcheol’s jaw snaps shut.

Seungkwan, who had just gotten a hold of himself, bursts into laughter all over again.

***

“Let me come, please, Hansol, I will pay you money if you let me come.” 

“Oh my god. How much?” Seungcheol thinks Hansol is enjoying this too much, but he’s desperate. 

“I don’t care. Just please let me be your plus one to the station’s Christmas party.” 

“You make me coffee for a year and wash the dishes for six months. Oh, and also, you have to clean the bathroom until the lease runs out.”

Seungcheol calculates how long he’d have to clean the bathroom for. A year and four months of bathroom duty. Well, it could be worse. “Deal.”

Hansol laughs in surprise. “Good choice, hyung.”

He knows he probably got the short end of the stick, but who cares? Yoon Jeonghan is the man of his dreams, and worth every scrub.

*** 

It goes without saying that the first thing he does when he finally sees Yoon Jeonghan is sniff his hair. 

“Um, excuse me?” Seungcheol is stunned to be caught, not but Jeonghan, but by the woman holding his hand

“Sorry, I’m so sorry, I bumped into him on accident, and I…” He realizes too late that there’s no good way to explain his way out of being caught sniffing someone’s hair, but he has to keep going now. “I thought maybe we used the same shampoo. I guess not. I’m so sorry.” 

He tries to walk away, but the girl grabs his jacket and yanks him down so she can whisper in his ear. “I don’t know what the fuck that was, but my brother probably thinks it’s cute, you lucky fucker. He’s been talking about you since you walked in. If I catch you doing any other sketchy shit, I will end your life.” She lets him go and her face transforms into a beaming smile. “Have fun, oppas!” Seungcheol is left standing, slack-jawed, until he feels Jeonghan tap on his shoulder.

“Sorry about Soonyoung-ah, she’s a little,” Jeonghan laughs nervously. “She’s something.” 

Seungcheol shakes his head rapidly. “No! No, she’s cute.” Jeonghan’s face falls. “I mean, not as cute as you,” he blurts out.

Jeonghan has a smile to match his sister’s, and it leaves Seungcheol breathless. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Yoon Jeonghan.”

“I know…” Seungcheol whispers, dreamily. “I mean, I’m Choi Seungcheol.”

***

Seungcheol doesn’t wonder how Jeonghan keeps his hair so shiny, because all the products are sitting on his bathroom counter. He doesn’t wonder what it smells like, because he uses the same shampoo now, and it smells like green apples and vanilla. And he doesn’t stay up until four am to watch Jeonghan on the weather channel anymore. He’s got the real thing right beside him in bed.


	13. ?? (soonyoung/jisoo)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which i have no prompt but i have fem!soonyoung which is better 
> 
> jisoo/soonyoung

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the delay on this I've been so busy this weekend even though I've had four (4!) days off of school lol and my cousin has my laptop tonight so I wrote this all on my phone and it's 2946 words which is by far the longest thing I've written.
> 
> Irony! It's also the one with the least plot. Somewhere along the line I lost the ex v best friend trope so the plot line fell apart but it's cute and I like it and I love how much I wrote so oh well!! #yolo
> 
> the first group soonyoung talks about isn't real it features 2 names of members of other groups I like, but the top media group is up10tion bc I'm up10tion tRASH

What he's seen of her so far, he doesn't like. She’s loud, for one thing, and she has bleached blonde hair which wouldn’t bother him if she had taken care of it. But no, it looks like straw that had been left out in the sun. It probably broke off in her hands every morning. His first impression of her wasn’t stellar, considering the first time he saw her she was downing shot after shot at a company Christmas party. 

But she’s Jeonghan’s sister, and he is Jeonghan’s best friend, and he just wants them to get along. So Jisoo takes a deep breath, squares his shoulders, and heads over to the table. Jeonghan sees him first and beams, waving. His sister looks up, scowls, and sinks deeper into her seat. 

“Jisoo-ah! This is Soonyoung.” 

Jisoo bows politely, unsurprised when she doesn't respond beyond a brusque nod. This lunch wasn’t going to be the pleasant get-to-know you lunch Jeonghan said it would be. 

The waitress comes by and Jisoo just points at something off the menu. His appetite is suddenly small. Soonyoung, to his shock and surprise, lists off about 8 entrees, everything seemingly for herself. Jeonghan just orders a water. 

Jisoo tries to engage Soonyoung in conversation. “I guess you work out a lot, then?” 

She rolls her eyes. “No.” Jisoo’s mouth opens and closes as he tries to scrounge up something to say.

“She dances,” Jeonghan says, saving him from having to reply. “She’s an instructor, and she does choreography for some of the smaller entertainment companies. She’s amazing.” Soonyoung rolls her eyes again but doesn’t refute his statement. In fact, she smiles.

Jisoo is slightly dazzled, and immediately tries to not be. “Wow, that’s awesome.”

Soonyoung nods in his direction, but she doesn’t say anything. Jisoo takes it as a good sign. 

He and Jeonghan fall into conversation about work; how Hansol and Wonwoo ought to be fired for accidentally mooning the camera while it was live, but probably won’t be because they’re cute and really even they would miss them; how Minghao and Junhui should probably just date already because everyone is sick of them making eyes at each other over the sound boards; how Seokmin is probably going to-

Soonyoung suddenly stands up, and Jisoo sees Jeonghan’s throat-slashing motions too late. “Oppa, can you just ask them to box my food up? I’ll see you at home.” She walks away, and Jisoo notices how she curls into her oversized hoodie and how her hair looks like it needs a good washing, how the way she walks looks tired and drawn, instead of lively like he would expect a dancer to walk.

Jeonghan sighs, covering his face with a hand. “I’m sorry about her.”

Jisoo shakes his head, confused but oddly guilty. “No, I’m sorry for whatever I said that made her leave. At least, I assume it was something I said.”

His best friend just shakes his head. “Seokmin and Soonyoung… they had been together for about a year before Seokmin just dumped her out of the blue. Not two days later she saw him with a producer from one of the companies she choreographs for. It takes a lot for me to look at him every day and not punch him in the stomach on live television.”

Jisoo leans back in his chair, slightly overwhelmed. “Wow. That’s… wow.”

“Yeah. Soonyoung wouldn’t have even been at the Christmas party if she hadn’t promised me she’d come. She never breaks her promises. She got wasted off her ass, though, which I don’t blame her for. Seokmin had brought Jihoon, so she had a good excuse.” 

The guilt doesn’t sneak up on Jisoo, it bitch slaps him straight across the face. He had come in pre-judging her, without even knowing the circumstances. The waitress drops their food off and he pushes it away immediately. What little appetite he had left is gone. 

♡

When his phone rings at 1:43 in the morning, his first instinct is to ignore it.

When it rings again at 1:45, he blindly feels around for it and misses the call by about 10 seconds.

When it rings a third time at 1:46, he finally picks it up. “Hello?”

“Oppa, it’s Soonyoung. Um, can you come pick me up? Please?”

If Jisoo is surprised by the fact that Soonyoung is calling him at 1:45 in the morning, and calling him oppa at that, he doesn’t let it come through in his tone. Instead, he blinks the sleep out of his eyes and rolls out of bed, not bothering to change. He pulls on his shoes as he asks, “Where are you right now?” 

Her voice is choked and strained but she rattles off an address that Jisoo vaguely recognizes as Seokmin’s from the one time he visited.

“I’m on my way.” He’s about to hang up when he hears her say something. “What was that?”

“Um, can you stay on the phone? It’s just, um, it’s late? And I’m alone out here… Never mind, it’s fine if-”

“Did you know I’m from California?” Jisoo interrupts. Soonyoung hesitates, before telling him that no, she didn’t. He talks to her about America, about his family, how he loves to sing and in fact met her brother because they were humming the same song in the break room, about how he loves dogs but his mother is allergic so he’s never had one - he talks about anything he can think of, so that she doesn’t feel obligated to explain why she needs a ride at 2 am. 

He only hangs up when he pulls up to the apartment building and notices her sitting on a bench, wearing nothing but a t-shirt and basketball shorts. Her hair is falling out of its ponytail holder, and her eye makeup is a mess. There’s a pair of heels sitting next to her. Jisoo tries his best not to jump to conclusions.

She clambers into his car, and he wordlessly hands her a jacket. She slips it on, whispering a thank you. From up close, it’s obvious she’s been crying. 

“It’s not my place to ask,” Jisoo says, before Soonyoung can even open her mouth. “I’ll listen to anything you feel like saying, but I promise I won’t ask. And I won’t tell Jeonghan, if you don’t want me to.” 

Soonyoung relaxes into the seat, letting out a breath she probably hadn’t even known she was holding. “Jeonghan… he worries. Endlessly. I hate that I worry him.” She laughs, humorlessly. “I don’t want him to know, but I’ll probably end up telling him anyways. He has that effect, have you noticed? You can’t hide shit from him.”

Jisoo thinks back to all the times he’s finished the break room coffee without making a new pot, and how Jeonghan’s gotten him to confess with just a forlorn glance at the coffee maker. “I’ve noticed.” 

“I bet you’re fucking dying with curiosity,” Soonyoung says, looking over at him. She’s wiped away some of the the streaked black makeup, and the smudged eyeliner makes her eyes look large and innocent. Jisoo smacks himself mentally and shrugs externally. “Ah, don’t lie. I’ve always believed that lies are for the daylight, you know? You can only hide one thing at a time. In the daylight, hide the truth and show your face. At night, tell the truth and shade your face.” Soonyoung is silent for a moment. “Seokmin hated that. He thought people should be honest all the time. Fucking hypocrite.” 

Jisoo doesn’t say anything, doesn’t know what to say. She doesn’t seem to expect a reply, in any case. 

“I only went over there tonight because he asked me to. I’m not one of those desperate heartbroken girls. I mean, I sort of am. But I wasn’t going to stalk his house or anything. He saw me at the bar, and some guy spilled his drink on my dress and he let me borrow some clothes. God,” Soonyoung laughs, “I hate him so much, but I can’t help but love him.”

Jisoo’s pulled over by this point, into some convenience store parking lot. There’s only one other car in the parking lot, presumably belonging to whoever is running the counter inside. He leans over and pulls out a pack of tissues from the glove box, passing them to Soonyoung, who’s started crying. 

It’s five minutes before she pulls herself together. “Sorry, I’m so sorry. I call you at an obscene time, ask you to pick me up, and cry all over your car. You barely know me.” 

“If I resented you for it, I would have resented you at step one and not even come to get you. Don’t worry about it, okay?”

Soonyoung nods, her eyes drooping, exhausted from the emotional strain. “Can you drop me off at Jeonghan’s place?” She’s asleep only seconds later.

He brushes her hair out of her face and starts the car, pretending that his heart doesn’t skip a beat when she nuzzles her face into the touch.

♡

_2:32 PM_ hey, do you want to grab coffee or something?

Jisoo doesn't bother to hide his surprise, making an exclamation out loud when he reads the text. Jeonghan peeks his head around the edge of the cubicle. “What?” 

“Soonyoung texted me, she asked if I want to get coffee.” Before Jeonghan can reply, his phone dings again.

_2:33 PM_ just to say thank you for picking me up the other night. my treat. 

“She   
says she's going to pay and everything.”

It's Jeonghan’s turn to be surprised. “Soonyoung-ah never pays for anything if she can help it. Damn, Jisoo, she must think you're her guardian angel or something.” 

_2:36 PM_ Sure! Just let me know whenever you're free!

♡

Soonyoung turns out to be free the next day. They meet at the busy little café around the corner from the news station. It's the first time he’s seen Soonyoung not looking worn down or extremely drunk. In skinny jeans and a flannel, snapback over her long hair, she looks like someone Jisoo would have been friends with in college. 

They both order a plain black coffee, and Soonyoung orders a slice of lemon cake with two forks. She shoots Jisoo a look when he opens his mouth to say something. “Trust me. You'll like it. Plus, I can never finish a slice by myself.” 

The conversation winds idly through small talk until they end up at Soonyoung’s job, something she speaks on with enthusiasm. She's telling him about a group she's been working with for years and how they're finally about to debut when her mouth closes so quickly it makes an audible snapping sound. Her eyes fixate on something behind his shoulder, and he turns to see Seokmin get in line, a small woman with long pink hair hanging on his arm. 

“Hey, you want to get out of here?” Jisoo asks, already grabbing for his jacket, but Soonyoung shakes her head firmly. She continues her story, which involves toilet paper, a stray squirrel, and leftover kimchi, until Seokmin approaches their table. 

“Hey, Soonyoung-ah. Hyung,” he greets, nodding at Jisoo. Jisoo says nothing, just watches the woman across from him. 

“Hi, unnie,” the pink-haired woman says, smiling brightly, as if she wasn't there with Soonyoung’s ex. In an uncharacteristic bout of violence, Jisoo wants to slap the grin off her face. 

Seokmin zeroes in on the plate with two forks. “Didn't wait too long, did you?” he chuckles, and hold on, Seokmin is literally standing next to the girl he went on a date with two days after their breakup, so what is he even talking about?

Soonyoung is frozen in her chair, mouth gaped open slightly, eyes radiating panic. Jisoo stands up, grabbing his jacket and Soonyoung’s bag in one smooth move. “Well, we’ll leave you two to enjoy your drinks. Soonyoung-ah, come on.” The blonde doesn't move from her seat, so he grabs her wrist and pulls her up, dragging her out of the café. 

She still hasn't said anything, even after the train ride back to her company, when at least three people bumped into her and some asshole stole her seat right before she managed to sit down. Jisoo decides to break the silence as they walk up to the door. 

“What a motherfucker, am I right?”

Soonyoung breaks into a startled, sputtering laugh. It seems to shake her out of her stupor, though, which is what he was aiming for. “I’m… I’m sorry for that. And thanks. Again. For saving me, again.” 

He smiles at her, eyes crinkling. “You're welcome.” 

♡

Jisoo really never expected to become best friends with Yoon Soonyoung, but his life certainly became more interesting after he did. 

♡

_12:15 am_ hey oppa come bring us burgers pls

_12:17 am_ Dude, no. Get your own burgers. Do you even know what time it is?

_12:18 am_ ok except ive been rehearsing with a group of teenaged boys since like 7 pm and we’re all starving

_12:19 am_ I have no idea why you think that's in any way my problem. 

_12:19 am_ OPPA PLS ILL OWE YOU FOREVER ALSO SO WILL THESE CHILDREN  
 _12:19 am_ lmao they say they aren't children lmAO i cant believe  
 _12:21 am_ dont forget that changbum can't eat cheese and that byungjoo hates pickles

_12:45 am_ I’m here. Normal practice room?

_12:45 am_ YES UR THE BEST MY FUCKING CINAMMON APPLE  
 _12:45_ yea come on up  
 _12:45_ the boys are literally drooling id make fun of them but same

_3:23 am_ i love you so much 

♡

Hours later, Jisoo still feels as if a brick has been dropped onto his head. The text he woke up to didn't surprise him, because Soonyoung tells him that she loves him almost daily. But taking it out of context, that she sent it at 3 in the morning, that he had just left the studio five minutes before (they had convinced him to participate in a number of pissing contests, from high note battles to freestyle dance-offs); it doesn't add up. 

He can't help but remember what she had said, almost a year before. 

_“I’ve always believed that lies are for the daylight, you know? You can only hide one thing at a time. In the daylight, hide the truth and show your face. At night, tell the truth and shade your face.”_

He drags his hands over his face. He's on air in about twenty minutes and he feels like a mess. Someone suddenly taps him and he leaps up, grabbing at random papers as if they’ll make him look busy, rather than emotionally distressed. 

Jeonghan is looking at him with wide, worried eyes. “Uh. Are you alright?” 

“Yep! Nothing wrong here!” Jisoo replies, too quickly. 

Jeonghan’s eyes narrow and Jisoo gulps. Here comes the magic confessing power. He isn't going to give in, he isn't going to give in, he isn't-

“Soonyoung-ah said she loved me but in a weird way and I think I might like her,” he says in a rush, eyes squeezed closed. He braces for a punch, or a kick, or even a curse. 

When none of them come, he peeks open an eye. What he sees isn't an angry older brother. Instead, he sees Jeonghan doubled over, silent laughter shaking his frame. Jisoo coughs indignantly. “Yah! This isn't funny!” 

Jeonghan looks at him with tears in eyes, hands braced against the desk. “This is _the funniest thing since Seungcheol sniffed my hair._ You think you like Soonyoung? I know you like her. In fact, you're in love with her.” 

Jisoo’s jaw falls open and Jeonghan starts laughing all over again 

♡

_9:10 pm_ yoooo oppa lol i meant like ily not /i love you/   
_9:15 pm_ hey wanna come by im at top media tonight and sunyoul is asking if youll bring boba

_10:01 pm_ hey are we good?

♡

Jisoo shows up at Top Media’s front door with 11 bobas and courage that's rapidly wilting with every minute Soonyoung doesn't show up. 

Finally, he sees a long blonde ponytail through the window and Soonyoung comes through the front door. She locks onto the boba in his hands. She smiles, and it's almost natural, but Jisoo knows her well enough to see the brittle edges. “Thank god, I was afraid Sunyoul and Wooshin were going to make my ears fall off my head with all their pouting and whining. If I had to hear the words ‘Jisoo-hyung’ one more time…”

“Soonyoung, I love you.” 

She freezes halfway to talking the boba from his hands and straightens back up. Slowly, her eyes disappear as a grin spreads across her face. 

“I love you too, dummy.” 

“KISS HER!” Soonyoung opens her eyes and pulls away from Jisoo so quickly that he gets slapped by her hair. 

“LEE HWANHEE I WILL END YOU.” 

Jisoo just laughs and heads inside with the drinks. Soonyoung is still threatening death upon the boys, and Jisoo wouldn't have it any other way.


	14. straight or nah (mingyu/junhui)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which junhui tries to make mingyu date someone thats not junhui. and it's all shit.
> 
> junhui/mingyu

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no prompt! this is literally entirely based off the part in their mansae stage where junhui pushes mingyu into the girl.
> 
> OK BUT UM SEVENTEEN AT MAMAS THANKS JESUS FOR MY LIFE!! 
> 
> anyways this is complete garbage and i wrote a cop-out ending, again. because im a tiny small who has 0 motivation after all the writing ive done for school and college apps this week. 
> 
> thanks for everyones comments and kudos!! literally every comment puts the biggest smile on my face it's so ugly when i smile randomly in class but i wouldn't have it any other way. thanks to everyone who reads, and sorry that i'm not better at responding to comments!
> 
> (ps what is with me and liking these dumb ass side pairings better than the main pairing like i want to flesh out this situation between wonwoo, soonyoung, and mingyu GOD I WILL NEVER FINISH WHAT I ACTUALLY AM TRYING TO DO WILL I)

Mingyu stares at Junhui from across the hallway, a little too blatantly. He couldn't care less, because he knows Junhui wouldn't notice anyways. Mingyu could paste a sign that says “I’m In Love With Wen Junhui” on his forehead and Junhui would still just fist bump him and be oblivious as hell.

He's so lost in his thoughts that he doesn't realize Junhui has shut his locker and turned around, and by the time he shakes his stupid lovestruck look off his face, it's too late. Junhui crosses the hall in two steps and gets in Mingyu’s face.

“You like Park Sohee?” he asks, eyes wide and curious. He might as well have his mouth hung open like a panting dog with how excited he is to hear Mingyu’s answer. 

“No?”

“Then why were you staring at her?” 

Mingyu looks backs to see Sohee at her own locker, the one next to Junhui’s. He looks back to see his friend’s face right next to his own. He stumbles back a step. Junhui follows. “Well?”

“I…” Mingyu hesitates, considering his options. “I was just staring into space. Thinking.”

Junhui rolls his eyes the way Mingyu knew he would. “Whatever you say. Lover boy.” Giggling, the dancer skips off down the hallway, presumably to find the rest of their group.

“Ffffff-” 

“No cursing in the hall, Mr. Kim!” a passing teacher scolds, and Mingyu drops his head in apology.

Useless crushes are useless.

~

Useless best friends are useless too.

When he tries to talk to Wonwoo about it, he’s met with laughter. “This isn’t funny, oh my god, what are you laughing at.” Mingyu’s head is about to explode with frustration and confusion. 

He looks to Soonyoung for help, but the oldest boy is shaking his head, hands help up in denial. “I don’t know anything about anything for I am but a small bean.” Mingyu glares. “Alright, fine, I do know something, but hell if I’m getting in the middle of this. Figure it out for yourself.” 

Mingyu knows this is revenge for not helping Soonyoung when he asked where to take Wonwoo on their first date, but he’s no less salty about it.

As he leaves Wonwoo’s house, his phone dings with a text. 

_6:32 pm_ Not all is as it appears. 

“The fuck does that mean, Wonwoo?” he yells, facing the front door so that his best friend will hear him.

“Young man, that is inappropriate language!” Wonwoo’s neighbor shouts, shaking her cane at him. He bows his head and curses Wonwoo under his breath as he leaves.

~

“There she is,” Junhui whispers. “Now’s your chance!”

“My chance to _what?_ ” Mingyu hisses back. All week Junhui’s been nagging him about his ‘obvious’ crush on Sohee. Junhui has called him out on being spacey, looking lovelorn, and, apparently, “acting like a baby kitten who’s just had its paw stepped on,” which is the most pathetic thing he’s been called in all his life. If he has to hear about Park Sohee one more time-

“To confess!” Junhui snaps, as if Mingyu is being the dumb and unreasonable one. “What else do you do when you have a crush on someone?”

_I don’t know, maybe hide it because the person you like is unbearably and horrifically straight?_ Mingyu thinks. 

What he says, though, is, “Nothing?”

Junhui scoffs. “That’s why you’re single.” Mingyu bites his tongue to stop from snorting and/or smacking Junhui in the mouth. 

“I can guarantee that’s not why.”

“Well, who cares why. Go ask her out!”

“Junhui, I don’t fucking-”

“Mr. Kim!” 

Mingyu groans.

~

He should have expected this. But he didn’t prepare himself, and he didn’t watch his back, so when Junhui pushed him into Sohee during the class change, he was caught unaware.

“Um, hi,” Sohee giggles.

“Hi, hello, yes, I’m so sorry about my friend, he’s kind of a jerk,” Mingyu says, smiling awkwardly. He’s never been more uncomfortable in all of his eighteen years. Even getting undressed in the locker room when he was going through puberty was better than this. “I’ll just… get out of your way.” He bows and steps aside, leaving Sohee blushing and confused.

He pushes his way through the mass of students, not bothering to wait for Junhui. It doesn’t matter though, because he hears him catching up and soon Junhui is right next to him. “Hey, what was that, why didn’t you tell her-” And Mingyu is so sick of hearing about Park Sohee that he snaps.

“Because I don’t like her! I was staring at you, you dumb idiot! God, why are you so obsessed with her and I? I like you, for fuck’s sake!”

Junhui’s mouth falls open in shock, and Mingyu inhales sharply as what he just said filters through his brain a little too late.

He takes off before anyone even has time to get onto him for saying fuck.

~

Wonwoo is more help this time around. 

“I heard from Soonyoung, who heard from Chan, who heard from Minghao, who heard from Junuhui’s brother, who read it in Junhui’s diary, that he likes you,” Wonwoo recounts, ticking the chain of information off on his fingers as he goes. 

Mingyu is three seconds away from punching something. 

“And you didn’t feel like telling me this a week ago? You know, when I asked you for help?”

Wonwoo shrugs. “Soonyoung told me not to, but that’s probably because he’s secretly still mad about that time you told him to send me roses instead of daisies.” Mingyu frowns. He had forgotten about that. (He wonders in the back of his mind how many times he had tried to sabotage their relationship and how many times it’s going to come back and bite him in the ass.)

“Bros before hoes, man.” 

Wonwoo shrugs again. “Not when those hoes threaten no sex for six months.” 

Mingyu sighs heavily and flops down onto Wonwoo’s bedroom floor. “Fuck my life.”

Wonwoo’s mother clicks her tongue from the doorway, and they both jump. “Kim Mingyu, didn’t your mother teach you not to use that language?”

Mingyu squeezes his eyes shut and tries not to scream.

~

He prepares himself to avoid Junhui on Monday, so he’s shocked when Junhui finds him first thing in the morning. 

He’s even more shocked when Junhui opens his mouth.

“I thought you were straight,” Junhui says. Mingyu stares.

“Have I ever indicated ever that I was straight?”

Junhui narrows his eyes. “Have you ever indicated that you were gay, either?” Which, fair.

“Okay, but I thought _you_ were straight,” he retorts. “Like, straighter than straight. Arrow straight. Opposite of a circle straight.”

Junhui doesn’t dignify that with a response, instead choosing to prove how not-straight he is to Mingyu. 

By first period, Mingyu is convinced.


	15. questions (jisoo/junhui)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> jisoo and junhui and some of the questions they ask as their relationship develops
> 
> jisoo/junhui  
> (yeah its their second chapter dont @ me)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> why am i so IN LUV with this pairing o m mgggm 
> 
> hellllo so yes i ended up writing this instead of being productive at cutting down my list (i have like 66 or 67 pairings left lmao) but i just couldnt stop cooing over this concept so here it IS. this collection may or may not be finished by christmas with 80 chapters because i keep getting side tracked but oh well. maybe we’ll shoot for new years. 
> 
> i am not non-binary, so i am loosely basing junhui’s gender on two of my friends who are. if i make any mistakes in representing non-binary genders, please please PLEASE let me know. 
> 
> ft. non-binary Junhui, pansexual Jisoo even though it never says, and petty arguing Soonyoung/wonwoo from chapter 11.

Jisoo isn’t the first person to tell Junhui he likes their sweater, but he’s the first to also tell them that he thinks they look nice with eyeliner on the very next day. Normally when people give them compliments, they avoid them afterwards, uncomfortable that they didn’t compliment the boy or girl they thought they had. 

It doesn’t bother Junhui, or they thought it didn’t, until Jisoo made them realize how nice it feels to be complimented on everything, not just one half.

Jisoo isn’t the first person to use the wrong pronouns, but he’s the first to apologize profusely for using he instead of they, and to use the right ones every time after that. 

Jisoo isn’t the first person to ask Junhui out, but he is the first person to like all the parts of their gender and personality, to ask Junhui out as a person, not as one part of their gender or another. 

Junhui says yes.

\----

On their first date, Junhui asks, “Why did you ask me out?”

Jisoo smiles and tells them that on the first day of class, he heard them curse and then say oopsies. 

Junhui laughs, disbelieving. “Really?”

“Really.” 

\----

On their second date, Jisoo asks, “Why did you move to Korea?”

Junhui shrugs, “Because I could. Why did you?”

“Because I could.” 

\----

On their seventh date, Junhui asks Jisoo to be their boyfriend. “Like, for real. I mean, officially. I mean- you know what I mean, damn it.” 

Jisoo’s eyes disappear with the size of his smile. “Of course.” He pauses, hesitates, then asks, “Can I kiss you?”

Junhui thinks it through before nodding. “On the cheek.” 

They almost expect Jisoo to frown or change his mind, but he just smiles that blindingly bright grin again and presses a soft kiss against Junhui’s cheek. 

“Thank you,” Jisoo mumbles before pulling back. 

It's the first time Junhui’s been thanked for making their own choices. It feels good.

\----

On their one-year anniversary, Junhui is laying underneath Jisoo on the couch, nervous and excited beyond words. They'd been afraid of Jisoo’s reaction when they said no the first time, and the next couple of times after that. But he simply nodded and backed off, cuddling them close and wrapping them in his arms to go to sleep. It had made Junhui’s chest swell with love and appreciation, but that was nothing compared to how they felt now. 

Which is why they want to scream and murder someone when Wonwoo and Soonyoung burst into the apartment, bickering about something stupid for the nth time. 

Junhui sits up once Jisoo has lifted himself off, and they shoot their roommates the ugliest glare they can muster. They’re frustrated and embarrassed, but fear overpowers both those emotions. Fear that Jisoo will be tired of interruptions and just give up, fear that the night has been ruined completely, and so on. It melts away when they look into their boyfriend’s eyes and see nothing but amusement and sympathy. 

They exhale sharply and stand up from the couch, pulling Jisoo along with them. They aren’t going to let Soonyoung and Wonwoo’s dumb asses ruin their anniversary. “Yah! We’re leaving. I don’t know when I’ll be back, so don’t wait up. Figure this out, and don’t call me. I’ll be getting laid.” Junhui makes a huffing noise for emphasis and drags a furiously blushing Jisoo out of the apartment. 

They slam the door and the argument picks up immediately, with even more heat than before. Junhui rolls their eyes and leads the way to the elevator. 

“What’s their problem?” 

“Wonwoo won’t fucking admit some shit he’s got going on and he keeps telling Soonyoung that he’s wrong and we all know how much Soonyoung hates that and… Actually, why are you talking? Why are we talking about this? You could be kissing me. Kissing seems like a better option than talking in regards to how you use your mou-” 

Jisoo takes their advice.

\----

On their 104th date, not that Junhui is counting, Jisoo asks them to move in.

“I thought maybe you’d want to get away from Soonyoung and Wonwoo,” Jisoo explains, anxiously fiddling with his napkin. He frowns. “Especially now that they don’t seem to sleep.”

Junhui smiles at their boyfriend, charmed by how nervous he is. “I don’t know, it’s actually pretty peaceful around there, now that they’ve stopped arguing about European history texts.”

Jisoo’s face falls but he schools it quickly, nodding. “Yeah, no, I get it. That’s fine.”

Junhui lifts his chin up to make sure he looks them in the eye. “Of course I’ll move in with you, dummy. I’ve been waiting for you to ask since I took over half of your closet.” 

“Oh, thank God. I love Soonyoung and Wonwoo and all, but I don’t know if I could take any more of seeing them make out on the kitchen counter whenever I come over.” 

\----

On Junhui’s 24th birthday, Jisoo asks them to marry him. 

Mingyu snaps probably a thousand pictures, Soonyoung wipes a tear from his eye, Jeonghan cheers too loudly, Seungkwan looks pointedly at Hansol who looks away guiltily, and Jihoon tips back his drink. 

“Wen Junhui, from the moment I met you, I knew that I would never, not in another life, not in a million years, find someone more perfect for me than you are. I promise that I will do my very best for make you happy every day for the rest of our lives, to cherish you and to be the big spoon and to feed you Chinese food when you’re homesick. Would you do me the honor of marrying me?” 

“Yes, dummy,” Junhui beams, their smile stretching wide across their face. “Get up here.”

Jisoo leans in, but stops before their mouths meet. “Can I kiss you?”

Junhui pretends to think about it. “On the cheek.” 

Jisoo pulls them into his arms and kisses them smack on the mouth anyways.


	16. stalker (soonyoung/seungcheol)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> modified from prompt from dailyau.tumblr.com but idk where the prompt is anymore so just know my inspiration came from there. 
> 
> soonyoung/seungcheol

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is 2348 words because I hate myself. I didn't mean for it to expand this far but it did and wow I'm posting this at lunch like I literally just finished it so its unedited and ugly and yeah. Fun times. 
> 
> copped out of legit relationship stuff but some pairings I just can't get behind :/ sorry y'all!
> 
> once again I didn't get a lot of shit explained so if you want explanations and stuff just ask in the comments and I'll write you big ass section and flesh it out.

It's two in the morning and the halls of the dorm are quiet, save for Choi Seungcheol stumbling to the bathroom, cursing under his breath about small bladders and too many coffees. His eyes are half-closed and he's hanging onto the wall, relying more on touch than sight to get him to the toilet. 

Since it’s so early, he doesn't expect anyone else to be in the bathroom. So when someone starts singing Taeyang at the top of their lungs, Seungcheol understandably has a minor heart attack. He catches himself before he slams his head into the urinal, but it's a close thing. 

The sound of the shower doesn't do much to cover the loud echoing of the vocals. They're a little hoarse, probably from the early hour, but they’re solid and they're in the right octave for Jihoon’s song and-

And it doesn't matter because he doesn't know who’s singing, and he can't exactly proposition someone who's showering to be in the hip hop club’s showcase. With Seungcheol’s luck, the guy singing is in the choir club anyways. 

Suddenly, an idea hits him. He'll just wait outside until their shower is over. He sinks down and sits cross-legged outside the showers, listening as the song shifts from _Eyes, Nose, Lips_ to _Body._ He bops his head along. Rise is a good ass album, he won't deny it. 

After a truly inspiring rendition of _Ringa Linga_ , the shower is shut off. Seungcheol scrambles to his feet and tries to look as least menacing and stalker-like as possible. The curtain swings open reveals a naked, dripping wet blonde. 

What happens next is still a blur in Seungcheol’s memory. 

The blonde screams, maybe a word, maybe not. Seungcheol can't tell. He rips the curtain off the pole and wraps it around himself in his panic, and Seungcheol ducks to avoid flying curtain rings. When he opens his eyes and looks up, shampoo is squirted directly into his face. He falls down, yelping, and by the time his sight returns, the blonde is gone. 

Seungcheol whimpers in frustration. That could have gone better. 

!

The next time he hears the voice is on the way to the dumpsters. It’s singing a Shinee song this time and he swears to God that his ears perk up like a dog’s when he hears the sound of _View_ coming from down the stairs. He hoists the garbage bags up and breaks into a run, determined to catch the blonde and explain himself. 

He finally spots the blonde hanging half out of the dumpster, song muffled by loads of trash. Seungcheol pauses. He’s not sure what to think, and his prepared speech flies out the window. He chooses to greet him.

“Good morning!” he calls, not expecting the blonde to startle.

But startle he does. 

The blonde jerks in surprise, and his hand slips off the dumpster lid. It falls and slams directly onto his ass, prompting a shriek of nearly inaudible decibels. Seungcheol drops his bags and runs to help. He lifts the lid, and, again startled, the blonde loses his balance and falls face first the rest of the way into the dumpster. 

Seungcheol cringes, still holding the dumpster lid open for the stranger to climb out. When he finally manages to pull himself up, his headband is askew and there’s a paper plate stuck to his back. There’s a deathly cold glare etched onto his face, and Seungcheol can’t help but grimace again. There goes his chance to explain.

The blonde scowls up at him for a second more before he registers Seungcheol’s face, and his expression morphs into anger. “Oh my god, you’re the crazy stalker that listened to me shower the other night. What the fuck is your problem?”

“No, it wasn’t like that! Okay, it was sort of like that, but only because I wanted to ask you if you’d sing in the hip hop club showcase!” Seungcheol knows that he’s royally fucked this all up, but he has nothing else to lose. He might as well ask.

The blonde snorts in disbelief. “Well, I might have, but certainly not now that I know that they have a member as freaky as you are. I’m leaving now. _Don’t_ follow me.”

Seungcheol continues to lift the dumpster lid as the boy leaps out gracefully and walks away, exit unhindered by the condom stuck to the bottom of his shoe. When he’s out of sight, Seungcheol groans and slaps himself in the face. 

That could have gone _a lot_ better.

!

“Seungcheol-ah, are you stalking people now?” Jeonghan asks the next day in class. 

“No, what the fuck. Where did you hear that?” The last thing he needs is rumors that he’s a stalker going around campus, and if Jeonghan knows, that means the choir club knows, which means basically everyone else knows. 

“I heard it from Jisoo heard it from Junhui who said that Soonyoung said that a member of the hip hop club was stalking him and I hoped it wasn’t you. It’s not you, right?” 

Fucking Jisoo and his fucking gossipy boyfriend. “Would this Soonyoung happen to be blonde?”

Jeonghan narrows his eyes, immediately suspicious. “Yes. Why?” 

“Ah shit. Well, I guess I can understand why he thinks I’m stalking him,” Seungcheol muses. He did sit outside his shower and listen to him sing half of an album, and he did follow him to the dumpster. Things certainly don’t point to the conclusion that he’s not a stalker.

“Um, Seungcheol-ah, why would Soonyoung think you’re stalking him?”

Jeonghan’s eyes start squinted and gradually get wider and wider with amusement as the story goes on. By the end he’s lost it, dying of laughter when Seungcheol mentions the condom stuck on Soonyoung’s shoe.

“Poor Soonyoung!” Jeonghan squeaks, trying to catch his breath. 

Seungcheol huffs, offended. “Poor Soonyoung? What about me? All I want is a singer for one song, but your entire club hates me and now, the next singer I get even a smidgen of a chance to ask hates my guts and thinks I’m a stalker,” he pouts. 

“It’s not my fault they all think you broke my heart. Plus, Jihoon doesn’t hate you.”

“Yes he does. But he hates everyone, so I’m not special,” Seungcheol points out, chewing on his pencil and staring at the problem on the board in confusion. 

“You better figure this out soon,” Jeonghan says, turning back to face the front. “Otherwise, you’re gonna have no singer and another reason for the choir club to hate you.” 

!

As it turns out, Jihoon knows Soonyoung, which would have been helpful to know before Seungcheol made an absolute fool of himself. But he just lets it go, because trying to argue with Jihoon is like talking to a brick wall. 

“Will you just please talk to him for me? Ask if he’ll give it a chance?” 

Jihoon shrugs. “I didn’t even know he sang. I mean, I knew, because he’s in my mixtape-”

“Your what? He’s what?” 

“ _Anyways_ ,” Jihoon continues, “I didn’t know he like, sang for real. He joined the dance club even after Seokmin tried to recruit him into choir.” 

Seungcheol hums in thought. “I guess that’s how he knows Junhui.” 

“Kind of. They dance together now, but they had a thing for a couple years before uni. They’re still super close though; it freaks Jisoo out sometimes,” Jihoon says, and Seungcheol snickers. Nice. “I’ll give you his number, I guess. Go away.” He slips his headphones back on, signalling the end of the conversation. 

Seungcheol thinks that texting Soonyoung out of nowhere probably isn’t the best idea, but he doesn’t have any other ones. He’ll take what he can get.

!

 _7:23 am_ Is this Soonyoung?

 _10:35 am_ new phone who dis  
_10:35 am_ for real though who is this  
_10:36 am_ holy fuck are you stalker guy?

 _10:38 am_ If I say no, will you hear me out?

 _10:50 am_ you're insane. 

_10:50 am_ Please give me a chance to explain.  
**Message could not be sent at this time.**

!

“And then he blocked me,” Seungcheol finishes. He's been whining to a less-than-captive audience of Mingyu and Wonwoo for an hour, but he doesn't care if he sounds petty. Damn it, he's frustrated. 

“Alright. But why was he in the dumpster?” Mingyu asks, for the fifth time. 

Seungcheol throws up his hands. “I don't know! I don't care! I just need to find someone to sing because Jihoon won't sing his own damn song.” 

Jihoon spins around in his chair and rips his headphones off. “I am singing it, you fucker, I just don't want to sing the chorus. Jesus.” 

“Were you listening the whole time?”

Jihoon turns back to his computer. “Maybe. By the way, I could have told you that it was a stupid idea to just text him like that.” 

Wonwoo suddenly shoots up from the couch, eyes wide with panic. “I, um, have to go. I… there's things, um, people, and I have to do people and see things. Wait, no, I mean-”

“Wonwoo, what the fuck,” Mingyu deadpans, “are you talking about.” 

“Soonyoung is coming over right now because I asked Minghao for the English exam study guide but he's busy and so Soonyoung is bringing it and I don't want him to have to see Seungcheol-hyung,” Wonwoo says in a rush, and Seungcheol’s jaw drops. 

“Does everyone know Soonyoung except me?” 

Mingyu raises his hand. “I don't.” 

Shaking his head, Wonwoo says, “Yes, you do. He sits behind you in Calculus.” 

Mingyu gasps. “Headband guy? He's bomb as fuck! He whispered all the answers to our last test to me, but to the tune of a Drake song.” 

Seungcheol buries his face in a couch cushion and screams. There's only so much shitty luck and so many shitty friends in the world, and somehow he got it all. “When he gets here, will you ask him for me?” 

“Nah, son. Deal with this yourself, it'll be funnier for all of us.” 

Seungcheol is about to protest, but there's a knock on the practice room door. He swallows hard and gets up to answer it. 

When Soonyoung sees him, he doesn't slap him, or scream, or anything so melodramatic as Seungcheol expects. Instead, he takes in Seungcheol with one quick sweep of his eyes and brushes past him as if he didn't exist. 

Ouch.

“Wonwoo-ah, I have the study guide,” Soonyoung sing-songs, dancing his way over to the couch. Wonwoo takes it with a thank you and a bow. 

“Excuse me, Soonyoung-ssi?” Seungcheol squeaks out. Everyone whips around to face him, and he feels his face heat up to dangerous temperatures. Soonyoung is scrutinizing him carefully, Jihoon has a shit-eating grin on his face, and Wonwoo and Mingyu are staring, wide-eyed. 

“I’d like to apologize for how I have gone about this in the past. It is my fault completely to have startled you and invaded your privacy. I’d simply like to ask you if you would do everyone here a huge favor and sing the chorus of the song we’ll be presenting for the club showcase.” Seungcheol felt formal and uncomfortable, arms held stiff at his sides. 

Soonyoung stares him down, holding eye contact until Seungcheol is forced to look away. When he finally does, Soonyoung smiles. 

“Jihoon asked me a week ago. He thought it would be funny to watch you stress out about it, but you did the rest of this to yourself,” he says, giggling. 

Seungcheol is silent. He presses a hand to his heart, because it feels he's having an aneurysm. Surely this is all a joke, and he hasn't been stressing himself out and giving Jisoo more firing material just so Jihoon can have a good time. He looks hopefully at the shorter man, who's fallen out his chair with the force of his laughter. Ah. Not a joke. 

He falls backwards onto the couch. Fuck. 

“On the bright side, hyung, you don't have to worry about finding a singer for the showcase anymore,” Mingyu smirks. Seungcheol, for the second time, buries his head in a cushion and screams. 

!

They leave the stage, beaming at the sound of thunderous applause and cheers. 

“Fuck yeah,” Hansol shouts, jumping onto Mingyu’s back. “We nailed it.” 

Seungcheol is about to catch up with them and celebrate, but something holds him back. He looks back to see Soonyoung trailing behind, looking lost in thought. “Yah. What's the matter?” 

Soonyoung meets his gaze. “Can I ask you a question? Why does the choir club hate your guts?” 

Seungcheol sighs. “It's a long story.” 

“Give me the too long, didn't read version,” Soonyoung demands. 

“Basically, I broke up with Jeonghan because he said he didn't want to be the dumper even though we both felt like the relationship was just friendship, but now the choir club acts like I crushed his beating heart in the palm of my hand and fucked his mother.” 

“Ouch,” Soonyoung says, but he's snickering. 

“Shut up,” Seungcheol whines. “At least I don't climb into dumpsters on the regular.” 

“I don't actually do it on the regular. I was trying to hide the shower curtain that you made me rip down,” Soonyoung says, sniffing haughtily. “Really, it's your fault that I was in there.” 

Seungcheol opens his mouth to make a crack back, but what comes out is, “Would you like to get dinner with me?” 

Soonyoung doesn't miss a beat. “How about I unblock your number first, and we’ll go from there.” 

Seungcheol nods. Fair enough.


	17. sleeping (wonwoo/seungkwan)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> otpprompts.tumblr.com: person B being the cuddly kind when asleep and person A being the kind that unconciously kicks you off the bed
> 
> wonwoo/seungkwan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is horribly short I'm very sorry  
> I haven't had any motivation and it's all terrible but I'm about to go on break from school in 2 days so hopefully I'll get a lot written!
> 
> I'm posting this in first period so pls ignore any glaring errors I'll do my best to fix them later

The boxes are still piled up against the wall, the couch is sitting on its side, and the water isn’t turned on. But Seungkwan couldn’t care less, because it’s his and Wonwoo’s first apartment together. The empty pizza box is sitting on the floor, paper plates discarded around it because they forgot to buy a garbage can. They'll clean it up tomorrow. 

For now, they're tucked into bed, the only piece of furniture that's been set up in the correct place. Headlights go by outside the bedroom window, illuminating their soft faces. It's peaceful in the apartment, and Seungkwan is almost afraid to disturb the silence by talking. It's their first time sharing a bed, and he soaks in the feeling of having someone to cuddle with under the covers. 

“Wonwoo,” he whispers, eyes drifting shut. “I love you lots.” 

Wonwoo smiles and kisses his forehead, allowing his small boyfriend to wrap his arms around him. “Love you too, babe.” 

Seungkwan drifts off to sleep, encased in warmth and happiness. 

>>>

The warmth and happiness don't stay too long. Seungkwan jerks awake as something begins violently kicking him. He flips back the covers, prepared to take on an intruder or something, when he sees Wonwoo’s legs flailing out.

“Fuck, I got stuck with a sleep kicker,” he whimpers. He climbs back onto the bed and shakes his boyfriend. “Wake up. Hey!” 

Wonwoo sits up suddenly, smashing his forehead against Seungkwan’s. “Babe? I’m so sorry, are you alright?”

“Fine,” he chokes out, eyes filling with pained tears. “You have a hard head. And you kick in your sleep, did you know?”

“I was having a bad dream, I guess. Come here, sweetheart. I’m so sorry,” Wonwoo croons, holding his arms out. Seungkwan eyes him suspiciously but crawls back into bed and relaxes in Wonwoo’s embrace. 

“Can we just cuddle again and go back to sleep?” he mumbles against Wonwoo’s chest. He feels rather than hears his boyfriend’s chuckle.

“Of course, baby.” 

>>>

When Seungkwan wakes up, he's on the floor with only the top sheet. He looks up to see Wonwoo spread eagle in the middle of the bed, both blankets wrapped around himself, hugging two pillows.

“Well,” he says to himself, “this shit isn't going to fly.”


	18. first christmas (jihoon/junhui)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> jihoon and junhui celebrate their first christmas in their new house.
> 
> jihoon/junhui

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> its been wayyyyyy too long since i’ve written anything wow im the worst i am so sorry and then i come back with this disjointed mess of a fic ug hghghghgh iM SO SORRY  
> (i’ve been on christmas break for 6 days and haven’t written 1 word i sucK)   
> fun fact i’m supposed to be on chapter 76 today and i’m on chapter 18 lmao
> 
> im probably gonna start a separate collection of jisoo/junhui prompt fills b t w mostly bc i love that pairing and i love death
> 
> if i don’t write anything until after the 25th (which is highly possible), for those who celebrate, merry christmas! for everyone else, enjoy your week (:

“Come outside and help me put up lights, he said. It’ll be fun, he said. So here I am, but I’m not having any fun,” Jihoon mutters darkly, stomping through the snow. It’s ankle deep and he has to step high to pull his feet through it. He’s struggling to carry an oversized tub of lights, full to the brim, from the shed to the front of the house where Junhui is staple-gunning garland to the gutter.

“Yah!” Jihoon shouts up, unceremoniously dropping the box at the base of the ladder. “I found them.”

Junhui cranes his neck around to look. “Jihoon-ah, I need the purple box.”

“I swear to God, Wen Junhui, that you told me you needed the blue box, so I got the blue box. At no point in the conversation did the words ‘purple box’ appear. Besides, I got the lights. What else do you need?” Jihoon demands, hands firmly planted on his waist.

“The hooks and stuff,” Junhui replies, turning back to continue straightening the wreath above the front door. “How am I supposed to hang lights without hooks?”

Jihoon says nothing, instead storming away back to the shed, mumbling under his breath the whole way. Junhui smiles to himself. Jihoon would do anything for him, he knows, even if he doesn’t act happy about it. 

(Junhui chooses not to admit that he really had forgotten to mention the purple box.)

-

It’s their first Christmas holiday living together, so Jihoon doesn’t quite know what to expect. He’s always spent Christmas Eve in the studio, piecing together his New Year’s deadline. This year, though, he’s promised to spend the 24th at home with Junhui.

Jihoon is dreading it. Not because he’ll be a tiny bit behind on the tracklist, but because Christmas Eve is when Junhui throws his massive Christmas party. A hundred people crammed together, a million fairy lights strung up around the house, flour in every nook and cranny of the kitchen from Junhui’s baking frenzy - it’s not exactly Jihoon’s idea of a good time. 

They’re laying in bed, Junhui peering at a book through his reading glasses and Jihoon scrolling through his email, when it occurs to Jihoon that he hasn’t seen a single sign of the party this year. He locks his phone and rolls over, propping his chin on his hand. Junhui raises an eyebrow at him.

“When are you going to start planning your Christmas party? The 24th is like, a week away,” Jihoon asks. 

Junhui shrugs. “I was thinking that I wouldn’t throw one this year. It’s just a hassle. I’m kind of over them, anyways.” 

Junhui talks about the party all year, from January 1st all the way until it starts. It isn’t like him to ‘be over it’. Jihoon narrows his eyes at his boyfriend, but lets it go. 

(Jihoon finally gets a clue when he gets Junhui’s mass email, probably included in the recipient list by accident.

_Hey everyone! Don’t cancel your plans for Christmas Eve because I’m not throwing a party this year. I’m not explaining beyond that I want to enjoy my first Christmas in my new house a little more subtly, so don’t bug me. Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!_

He realizes that he has one of the most observant, sappy boyfriends in existence, and he grins.)

-

With no party cleanup to distract him, Junhui is restless on Christmas. The snow has piled up too high to drive anywhere, and he’s bored and itching to do something. They’ve already opened presents, he’s already baked his way through their entire supply of eggs and sugar, he finished Empress of China three days earlier, and the book he was trying to read got boring.

“Jihoonie,” he whines, “entertain me.”

The smaller man simply hums, not really listening to anything but the melody in his head. His laptop is open in front of him and his notebooks are spread across the table. If he couldn’t be in the studio today, by God, he’d bring the studio home. 

Junhui is disgruntled about it. 

“When I asked you to stay home with me for the holiday, I sort of thought you’d put the composing away for a little while and actually, I don’t know, spend time with me,” Junhui says, coming to stand behind Jihoon and resting his cheek on his pink hair. 

“In a while…” is the reply that comes. Junhui huffs, standing straight. That’s not what he wanted to hear.

He folds his arms. “Fine. I’ll be in the bedroom,” he says, voice lilting, “if you want to join me.” Jihoon simply nods, and Junhui groans in frustration. “I guess I’ll go have fun by myself.”

It’s an hour later when Jihoon finally registers what Junhui said. His eyes blow wide and he quickly saves his work, slamming the laptop closed and running to the back of the house. When he throws open the bedroom door, he sees his boyfriend spread across the bed… asleep.

He sighs, but smiles fondly and crawls into bed beside him. “Hey, wake up,” he whispers, softly shaking Junhui’s shoulder. After a moment, a pair of dark brown eyes blink up at him. 

“You took too long,” Junhui yawns, still mostly asleep. “Now all you get is cuddles and Netflix. Maybe hot chocolate if I’m in a good mood.” 

“That sounds fine to me, babe. Sorry for making you wait,” Jihoon replies, gathering Junhui up in his arms. “Merry Christmas, Junie. I love you so much.” 

(Junhui is curled against Jihoon’s chest, chest rising and falling rhythmically, but he isn’t asleep. He breathes an ‘I love you’ back and closes his eyes. This is the best Christmas he’s ever had.)


	19. psychopaths in love (seungcheol/hansol)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hired killer of corrupted people seungcheol meets messed up lost boy hansol (loosely inspired by howl by florence & the machine)
> 
> seungcheol/hansol (he is around 19 when seungcheol finds him. no underage.)
> 
> warnings: murder, fairly graphic depictions of injuries and violence, blood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> idk why but im a big fan of these aus and a therapist would probably tell me it's bc im sad and lonely 
> 
> this was for real supposed to be inspired by the song but when i opened the doc up to finish it the plot completely derailed itself. I cut like 400 words and changed my mind so we're at this psychopaths in love type thing. 
> 
> please take the warnings seriously!!

The first time Seungcheol saw him, the boy was bruised, bottom lip bleeding, purple stains spreading across his knuckles and eyes, scraped and battered and breathing heavily, but still fighting back with all he had; Seungcheol thought he was the most beautiful creature on Earth.

He leaned against one of the brick walls of the bar and watched the scene from the far side of the alley, contemplating the idea of breaking it up but more inclined to wait and see what the boy would do. It was clear that the boy had some sort of experience fighting but it was a more one on one type of combat, and he had a habit of forgetting that there was another three men behind him that could take him out. His curly hair fell in his face as he took a solid hook to the jaw and returned with a heavy kick to the attacker’s knee. Seungcheol smiled; it was a smart move. The larger man’s knee buckled and he fell to the ground, leaving an opening for the boy to escape. 

Seungcheol might have run, if he had been as outnumbered as the boy was at such a young age, and he wouldn’t have thought less of the boy, but he observed with a raised brow as the boy kicked a foot out at the fallen aggressor and struck his face before turning to face the other three. Seungcheol would have contentedly continued to be only an observer until he saw the glint of the street light on a pocket knife. He smoothly pushed himself off of the wall and walked over to the scene, calmly grabbing one of the men’s hands before it could swing. 

“That’s enough. What, you couldn’t find someone your own size to pick on?” Seungcheol asked mildly, but with a subtle edge that would be difficult to miss. The boy looked over at him with wide eyes from where he stood with hands around his throat and a knife at his back. Seungcheol could clearly read the panic and fear written there, and he nodded slightly. 

“This little slut tried to steal from us, it’s only fair. Why don’t you mind your own business?” the man with the knife said, digging it in a little more deeply into the boy’s back. Seungcheol mostly ignored him, instead listening to the boy’s frantic panting and the whimpers that sounded as if they were being ripped from his throat. Without breaking eye contact with the boy, Seungcheol twisted the man’s wrist until he heard it snap.

He moved his grip from his hands to his head. “Now, I could keep twisting things, and they could keep snapping, or you could just walk away right now, scot-free.” He turned the man’s head around his his hands, waiting for the whistling of the wind to die down before he spoke again. “Your choice.” 

The attacker choking the boy dropped his hands and turned to face Seungcheol. “I’d like to see you try.” 

Seungcheol simply turned his wrists a little harder and let the man go. He fell to the ground, motionless. Seungcheol stepped over his body, smirking as the others take a step back. “Would you like to see me try again?” 

“Alright, fuck, we’ll let him go.” Seungcheol nodded, satisfied, and turned to leave. He stopped when he heard the boy scream. When he looked back, the boy was holding his hands over his mouth and the men were running down the alley. If it had been another night, someone different lying bloody on the concrete, he would have took off after them. Instead, he stooped down and gingerly lifted the boy into his arms. 

“I’m Seungcheol. Don’t worry, I won’t hurt you. I’m taking you home.” 

\--

It’s all a blur after that.

\--

He knows Hansol is sitting there in his armchair by the door, waiting for him even at this ungodly hour. He opens the door slowly, peering in to see if his boy is awake or if he’s fallen asleep again. A pair of warm brown eyes meet his, and he steps inside. 

“Hey, baby. You should be in bed,” Seungcheol scolds, but there’s no disappointment or anger behind his words. He opens his arms. Hansol unfolds himself from the chair and all but jumps into them. Seungcheol kisses him, feeling the raised scar across his lips where his mouth was sliced three years ago. Hansol smiles into it but pulls away first.

“Hello yourself,” he says, before burrowing his face into Seungcheol’s neck to kiss away the blood and sweat mingling in the crook there. Seungcheol closes his eyes and revels in the warm solidity of Hansol, safe and sound in his arms. 

Seungcheol has had three years of looking over his shoulder, of searching blindly for the men whom Hansol has dubbed Slash and Run, of wondering if the violence will become too much for his boy to stomach and he’ll come home one day to find an empty armchair. It’s been three years of cautious progress and of learning to love someone broken and learning to be loved when he’s broken too. 

Hansol isn’t his sun; they’re too dark for that. Hansol is his moon, the light that breaks through the deep of the night and brings him home.

\--

Seungcheol is hesitant, when Hansol asks to watch him work, because he doesn’t want to push Hansol as far as he has to push himself, stretching the limits of his tolerance and humanity to get the job done. He tells Hansol no the first, second, third time. 

He can’t find it in himself to be mad when Hansol tries to secure permission post-coital, across the pillow, looking at him with large, warm eyes that appear young but have seen more than their share of the world. Seungcheol only sighs and accepts that his boy has finally discovered where he is weakest: in bed. 

“Hansol, do you understand that I’m trying to protect you by not letting you come with me? It’s not that I want to upset you or that I’m hiding something. I don’t want to let you watch me do my job and then...” He swallows hard, fighting back the panic that wells up from talking about his worst nightmare. “And then you decide that I’m a monster, disgusting or sick or-” 

Hansol grabs his face with both hands, forcing Seungcheol to look directly at him. “Seungcheol, I know you kill people for a living. If finding that out didn’t scare me off, how could seeing it?” He lets go and flops back onto the pillow. “Besides,” he says, “nothing could make me love you any less than I do right now. If anything, I’ll love you more.”

\--

Seungcheol realizes that what he should have been worried about wasn’t that Hansol would hate it, but that he’d like it too much. The kisses to his neck and hands when he comes home were less about feeling Seungcheol’s warmth and more about tasting the blood that stained his skin, the sex about feeding off of the post-kill high and not about reassuring himself that his lover was home.

“Christ, Hansol, calm down. I have to clean this up later,” Seungcheol says firmly, interrupting Hansol’s reverie. The boy drags his bloody, gloved fingers across the man’s torso one last time before standing up, peeling the gloves away. 

“I’m sorry, it’s just… I could have been doing this the whole time and you tried to protect me from it,” Hansol laughs, wrapping his arms around Seungcheol’s waist. “I think it’s cool that you kill bad guys.” 

“Someone fucked you up, once upon a time,” Seungcheol replies, burying his nose in his boy’s hair. Hansol laughs even harder. 

“Yeah, but at least someone fucked you up just as bad. We’re fucked up together.” 

Seungcheol smiles. “We sure are.”


	20. snapchat (minghao/chan)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it was gonna be a youtuber au but now it's a "i sent a snapchat to the wrong person but you're actually super cool and cute date me" college au 
> 
> minghao/chan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> b4 you read pls be warned that this is the stupidest thing
> 
> it also features my extremely guilty ot3 getting down, but it's all suggested, it's not graphic or depicted or anything. do not fear, i will not be writing a chapter for them (in this collection) 
> 
> this is such a difference from the last chapter my mind is everywhere tonight (also 2 in one day i know it's a friggin miracle)
> 
> ft. jisoo/junhui/soonyoung ot3 and stupid snapchat captions

Minghao swears up and down he types it in carefully, re-reads the text, double checks the numbers, everything he can possibly do to ensure that he sends the Snapchat to the right person. 

So of course, the snap he gets back isn't from Soonyoung, like he intends. Instead, it's some stranger with a cowlick in the back of his hair, an eyebrow cocked. The caption reads _who is this?_

Minghao hisses through his teeth and checks the contact he sent it to. Dancerboi1010 is Soonyoung, and the person he sent a selca to is Dancerboi1001. 

He hates social media. 

He takes a blurry picture of the potted plant in the corner and types, _wrong person!_ He thinks that should be the end of it. Instead, he gets a notification that tells him Dancerboi1001 has added him as a friend and another snap back.

_oh well hi i’m chan_

Minghao scowls. He knows better than to talk to strangers, or send them pictures of his face, whether or not he thinks they’re cute. He closes the app and tucks it in a folder of other useless apps. Snapchat is stupid anyways.

!!!

Over the next few days, he gets somewhere around 45 notifications, all from Snapchat, all from Chan. Try as he might to ignore them, curiousity gets the best of him and he opens all of them. Minghao watches as Chan’s week flashes by in pictures: a snap of a puppy in a scarf, his ramen, a video of him dancing to Michael Jackson. Minghao tries not to be charmed by the captions, but they make him giggle.

_a dog in the winter: chili dog_  
tastes like being a broke uni student  
i’m bad, i’m bad, i’m bad at this dance 

Minghao knows that they’re probably all sent out to his entire list of friends, but when he sees the one about the noodles, he can’t help but think what Chan would say about his hair. On a whim, he takes a picture of his head and writes, _this is how much i love ramen_. He sends it before he can have second thoughts. 

The reply comes only seconds later. Chan has taken a picture of his own hair, signature cowlick sticking up as usual. _hair game weak for both of us_

Minghao snickers and snaps a blurry picture of his foot. _why do we do this to ourselves?_

Chan’s reply makes him freeze. The caption is just a laughing emoji, nothing major. The picture, however, is what surprises him. It’s of the poster hanging in the dorm kitchen not 20 feet away. He shuts the app down and takes deep breaths.

Fuck, the guy he’s been developing a crush on is sitting only yelling distance away. This calls for desperate measures. Minghao punches in Junhui’s number. 

It rings four times before someone picks up, and even then it isn’t Junhui. “Hello?” Soonyoung says, sounding distracted. “Minghao, what’s up?”

“Um, where’s Junhui-hyung? Not that it’s not awesome to talk to you.” He hears a strangled sort of sound come across the line, and he wonders if Soonyoung is strangling Junhui. 

“Jisoo, not yet. I told you- sorry, what? Oh, Junhui is, um, busy. He’s- Jisoo! Don’t even think about it. Junnie, untie the rope.” Soonyoung has obviously tried to muffle his voice, but Minghao can hear clearly enough to understand just what sort of _busy_ Junhui is.

“Never mind, hyung. Wait, actually, can you give me advice since your love life is clearly thriving?” 

He can practically hear Soonyoung’s smug, curling smile through the phone. “Of course, my darling dongsaeng. I think you should go talk to Chan, he’s been sitting in the kitchen of our dorm for hours now, waiting for you to walk in. He does every day. Poor dear thinks that it’s a good plan of action to woo you.”

Minghao’s jaw drops. “You know Chan?” As if that’s the number one question he should have.

“Hang up the phone and go talk to him. I promise, he’s just as nervous as you are. JISOO! WHAT DID I SAY ABOUT-” Minghao hits end before he can find out what Soonyoung told Jisoo. 

What he should do is pluck up his courage and go to the kitchen and talk to Chan and maybe get a date for once. What he does is bury his head in a pillow and scream.

!!!

Minghao forgets, surprisingly, for a few days that Chan is essentially stalking him. It’s easy to push to the back of his mind between Junhui’s uncomfortable apologies and stuttered explanations that Minghao could have lived without, his upcoming English exam, and his deletion of Snapchat. Every time he saw the yellow icon on his screen, he felt like a coward. It didn’t help that Chan sent him a photo every four hours or so, the notification reminding him of his scaredy-cat behavior.

So he’s surprised and frightened when he drags himself into the dorm kitchen after an all-nighter to come face-to-face with Chan. He jumps backwards in shock, slamming into the counter. 

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, are you okay? Wait. Minghao?” Chan says, all in a rush. Minghao bends at the waist, trying to catch his breath. 

“Yeah, I’m fine. Chan? What are you doing in my dorm’s kitchen at,” he glances at the microwave clock, “8:32 in the morning?”

Chan’s face flushes brightly. “Yeah, about that, I’ve been trying to get in contact with you? I asked for your number a couple weeks ago but you never replied.” Minghao thinks back quickly, and suddenly remembers the panic that the question incited, causing him to get unreasonably smashed and forget to reply. He slaps his palm to forehead.

“I am so sorry,” Minghao says. “But you could have asked Soonyoung-hyung? I guess you guys know each other?” Chan’s face turns even more red, if that was possible. 

“Can we start over?” He sticks a hand out. “I’m Lee Chan, freshman.” 

Minghao grins. “Xu Minghao, sophomore. It’s nice to meet you. Your hair game is weak, though.”

“And yours isn’t?” Chan scoffs. 

“Do you want to get coffee with me later?” Minghao blurts, confidence boosted by Chan’s obvious requited interest. 

Chan’s replying smile is answer enough.

!!!

_postscript_

“Was that your dog in the scarf?”

“No, it was my noona’s. She loves dressing her dog…” Minghao tunes Chan out as he stares in horror at a table in the corner of the coffee shop. 

“Chan, we have to get out of here. Right now.” 

Chan frowns at him. “We just got here, though.” 

Minghao finally tears his eyes away from the terrifying scene and turns to Chan, panic in his eyes. “Unless you want to play witness to Soonyoung-hyung, Junhui-hyung, and Jisoo-hyung sharing one muffin and the same coffee cup, we need to leave.” 

Silently, Chan turns on his heel and exited the coffee shop. Minghao breaths a sigh of relief. Finally, he had picked a good one.


	21. doting: 5+1 (jeonghan/soonyoung)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 5 times vocal team dotes on Soonyoung and one time he dotes on them. 
> 
> soonyoung/jeonghan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes it is me for the third time today  
> im knocking a lot of my started ones out it feels so nice to be able to write as much as I have today
> 
> anyways i rlly like this one because soonyoung really was slotted for vocal team before he moved, and soonyoung x vocal team 4 life ok 
> 
> (soonyoung being doted on by everyone bc he is a Smol more of this content)

  
**One**  
_Jihoon_  


The clock is ticking slowly past midnight, closer and closer to dawn with every edit Jihoon makes to his song. Soonyoung sits in the corner of the studio, alternating between fucking around on his cat app and designing a new Mansae choreography. Every so often, he'll coo and shove his screen in Jihoon’s face, showing him some new toy or that fat cat that had showed up again or something equally as inane. But for some reason, Jihoon doesn't get annoyed or frustrated by the interruptions. Instead, he smiles and nods and ruffles Soonyoung’s hair.

He doesn't notice that Soonyoung is asleep until he realizes that the updates on the cats have stopped. He saves his progress (not finished but nearly there, Soonyoung is the only one he’ll stop partway for) and walks to the couch, smiling fondly at the snuffling, dreaming blonde. A chunk of Soonyoung’s bangs has fallen in his eye, and Jihoon leans over and softly brushes it away. 

He pulls up _long-haired hyung_ in his contacts and sends off a text. 

_2:09 am_ your boy is asleep in the studio. 

_2:11 am_ aigoo will you wake him up and bring him back to the dorm? thank you jihoon-ah  <3

“Soonyoungie-hyung. Hyung. Wake up.” Jihoon shakes the dancer’s shoulder firmly, and a few seconds later Soonyoung blinks sleepily. Jihoon hides a smile, amused by how cuddly his hyung looks just waking up - fluffy, tangled hair, soft eyes, lips softly smacking together. 

“Jihoon?” 

“Come on, Jeonghan-hyung is waiting for you back at the dorm.” 

Soonyoung grins blearily. “Oh, okay. Let's go then.” 

(If anyone else had fallen asleep on Jihoon partway to the dorm, he would have dropped them on the ground. Instead, he shakes Soonyoung awake and half-drags him until he's safely tucked away in Jeonghan’s bed.)

  
**Two**  
_Seokmin_  


Soonyoung loves dumb jokes, and Seokmin loves his hyung, so he listens to them.

“Seokmin-ah, what’s the dumbest animal in the jungle?” Soonyoung is beaming, obviously trying not to laugh at what Seokmin is sure is the stupidest pun in history.

“The cheetah?” he asks. 

“The polar bear!” Soonyoung shrieks, losing his cool and cackling, rolling out of his chair and onto the floor. Seokmin thinks about it. 

“Oh, I get it. That’s a good one, hyung,” but Soonyoung doesn’t really hear him over the sound of laughter echoing across the practice room. He finally collects himself enough to sit back in the chair and scroll to the next joke. 

Seokmin would honestly rather slam his head into the desk than have to laugh at another ugly joke, but he manages genuine chuckles, more at Soonyoung’s reactions than at the puns. He almost faints in relief when Jeonghan pokes his head into the office. 

“Soonyoungie,” he calls, “are you ready to go?” 

Soonyoung pops out of his chair, grinning. “Hyung, listen to this.” 

With a fond grin, Seokmin watches as Jeonghan wraps his arm around Soonyoung’s waist and presses a kiss to his hair as the younger boy spouts another joke. The door closes and he lets out a breath. The only good thing about Soonyoung’s love of horrible puns is that he always has new fuel to torture Hansol with.

  
**Three**  
_Seungkwan_  


“Hyung, if you take me to noraebang again, I will kill you.”

Seungkwan watches with narrowed eyes as Soonyoung blushes. “Seungkwannie, who do you think I am? Some unoriginal guy?” 

Seungkwan sniffs. “That’s exactly what I think you are.” Soonyoung pointedly doesn’t look at their favorite noraebang as they walk by. 

Soonyoung leads him around the block four times before Seungkwan accepts that his hyung really was just going to take him to noraebang. “Hey, why don’t we just go sing for a while? It sounds fine to me.”

“Really?” Soonyoung lights up, and Seungkwan remembers that Soonyoung was slotted for the vocal team until he decided to step up and take over the performance team. He thinks about how it would feel if he only got one or two lines in their songs, and how hard it would be if he had to dedicate all of his time to something else. Not that Soonyoung doesn’t love dancing and choreography, because Seungkwan knows he does, but watching how excited he gets at the idea of karaoke…

“Yeah, let’s do it,” Seungkwan says, laughing at how Soonyoung shoots down the sidewalk towards the building. 

It’s no hardship for Seungkwan to sing his heart out to old girl group singles for a couple of hours, but watching his hyung bounce around and shout lyrics at the top of his lungs makes it easier than ever.

  
**Four**  
_Jisoo_  


When Jisoo picks up Soonyoung’s call, he can tell that Soonyoung is thinking about something. They’ve gotten closer through dating each other’s best friends, and time has taught him that his dongsaeng hyung opens up when he wants to, no matter how much someone pleads. Eventually, Soonyoung cuts the small talk.

“How did you know you were in love with Junhui?” he asks. Jisoo doesn’t even pretend to be surprised that Soonyoung knows how he feels about Junhui, even though Junhui himself doesn’t even know yet. Soonyoung has always been more observant than he lets on. 

“It’s just a feeling, you know? I look at Junhui and I see someone who I would rather die than hurt. He makes me happy. He makes me feel like singing does, only better,” Jisoo tries to explain, frustrated with his choppy words. But Soonyoung gives a thoughtful hum. 

“I think I’m in love with Jeonghan.” He pauses, but Jisoo doesn’t say anything. He knows Soonyoung isn’t done. “When I look at him I feel out of breath, but in a good way, like after a performance. Is that love?” he asks, worriedly.

Jisoo thinks about it. “It’s different for everyone, but it sounds to me like love.” 

Soonyoung lets out a heavy breath into the phone. “Thanks, hyung.”

The words are heavy with meaning, and Jisoo picks it all up. “You’re welcome, Soonyoung-ah. You can call me anytime.”

  
**Five**  
_Jeonghan_  


Jeonghan pushes Soonyoung down back onto the bed for the millionth time, a stern look set on his features. “Soonyoungie, stop being uncooperative and just take a rest. You’re sick, for god’s sake. Act like it.” Soonyoung stubbornly lifts himself up off of the pillows again, and Jeonghan frowns stormily at him.

“I don’t need a nap, I need to finish choreographing next week’s Music Bank performance,” he says, grumpily. “Besides, I took a nap earlier.” 

“Sleeping in the car on the way back from the store doesn’t count,”Jeonghan counters. 

Soonyoung, obviously deducing that the obstinate route isn’t working, switches tactics. He lets his eyes well up with tears and sticks his bottom lip out slightly. “Hyung, please let me go finish. I’ll feel so guilty if the members can’t learn it in time because I finished it late.” Jeonghan leans in close, and for a second Soonyoung thinks he’s going to wipe his tears away. Instead, he hears “no” whispered in his ear. His face crumples and he flings himself to the pillows dramatically. 

“Fine. Whatever,” Soonyoung spits, but it’s lacking the irritation he had hoped to impress on his boyfriend. “I’ll lay here, but I won’t take a nap.” His mouth is set in a thin line of frustration, and he’s determined to keep it that way. 

“Alright, Soonyoung-ah. Whatever you want,” Jeonghan coos. “But I’m going to lay here with you until you fall asleep, alright?” Soonyoung curses. Jeonghan soothes him to sleep faster than anyone else. 

“You’ll be sitting here a long time, now won’t you.” Soonyoung says, but Jeonghan slips a hand through his hair softly and he can already feel himself drifting. He’s a goner when the humming starts. Jeonghan smiles down at his now sleeping boyfriend. 

“Love you, Soonyoungie.”

  
**Plus One**  
_Soonyoung_

“You got us all sick,” Seungkwan moans. “This is all your fault, hyung.” 

Soonyoung shrugs, unrepentant. “That’s why I’m here, nursing y’all’s asses back to health instead of laughing at your pain.” 

Seokmin and Jihoon scowl at him, but accept the pills he hands them. Jisoo laughs from his seat across the room, mask over his face. “You should have just talked to him over the phone like I did. Soonyoung-ah, thank you for calling me instead of being proactive and coming to find me in the next room over. Have I ever told you how much I love your laziness?” 

“Shut your ugly mouth, Hong Jisoo,” Jeonghan says, or tries to say, before he begins hacking like he’s going to spit up a lung. Soonyoung brings him a glass of water and the cough medicine. 

“Should I make you guys soup?” Soonyoung asks. Everyone in the room immediately launches into violent protest. “Damn, okay. No soup, I get it.” 

One by one his charges fall asleep, even Jisoo. He leans down to give Jeonghan a kiss on the forehead when he feels arms wrap around him and pull him down. “Take a nap with me, Soonyoungie. You’ve worked hard,” Jeonghan mumbles groggily. Soonyoung sighs, but relents. As he mumbles a song into Jeonghan’s ruffled hair, Soonyoung realizes that he couldn’t imagine a place he’d rather be. He slips into sleep with a smile on his face.


	22. pride parade (jeonghan/jihoon)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Imagine your OTP being of the same gender and going to pride, only to be greeted by religious protesters. They then proceed to make out in front of them.
> 
> jeonghan/jihoon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> because someone asked so nicely for this pairing, here it is.
> 
> (((The ending??? Idk??? I just rAn out of words pls forgive)))

//

Jihoon sighs heavily. Of course he’d known they'd be here, but he hoped he wouldn't have to deal with them. 

“God hates gays!” he hears, someone from the group of protestors voicing their opinion. 

The religious group is standing in the middle of the sidewalk, spilling out onto the road. He'd go around, but on one side is brick buildings and on the other is the cars in the street. All he wants is to get to where Jeonghan said he'd be, up the road by the Dunkin Donuts. Jihoon can see the sign from where he's standing, but he's stuck. 

“Excuse me, can I get by?” he asks, tapping the nearest protester on the shoulder. She recoils. 

“You're going to hell, you know,” the girl scoffs. “That's where gays like you go.” 

“First off, how do you even know I’m gay? What if I just want a donut? You're blocking the way to Dunkin Donuts for everyone, even heterosexuals. Secondly, even if God does hate me and I do go to hell, you're going to hell, too, because he also hates people who judge and scorn. So I guess I’ll see you there.” Jihoon shrugs casually, but inside he's half thrilled at his comeback, half terrified for the backlash. 

Her face screws up in an ugly glare, but before she can say anything, another man steps up behind her. 

“This guy bothering you?” he asks, holding his sign under his arm and popping his knuckles. Jihoon knows it's a bad idea, but he rolls his eyes anyways. 

By this point, he's gotten the attention of more than a few protesters in the group, and they stare at him with a mixture of trepidation and interest. He almost opens his mouth to say something to them, something that would probably get him socked in the mouth, when he hears his name being called. 

Jihoon looks over to see Jeonghan’s ponytail flying out behind him as he runs over to where he's standing. He smiles widely at the group. “That's my boyfriend.” 

He hears more than one noise of disgust, but he ignores it in favor of waving happily at Jeonghan. When the taller man reaches him, Jihoon does something he usually would never do. 

He engages in a Public Display of Affection. 

Jihoon reaches up and pulls Jeonghan’s face down to his, kissing him fiercely. His boyfriend makes a shocked sound in his throat but takes it in stride, slipping his tongue in Jihoon’s mouth and everything. 

Jihoon grins, a giant, shit-eating grin. He pulls away after leaving one, two more pecks on Jeonghan’s mouth. 

“Okay, well, we’ll be on our way!” he chirps, pulling on Jeonghan’s hand and forcing his way through the group, all staring in shock and horror. 

When they finally get to the Dunkin Donuts, they're both cracking up, their laughter causing them to lean on each other heavily. Jisoo and Junhui watch them from a booth in the back, staring at them in confusion. Hansol high-fives them as they come in. 

“That. Was. Amazing,” he wheezes, his own cackling loud and abrasive. 

Jeonghan takes a sarcastic bow. “Thank you, thank you all. I’d like to thank the academy…” 

// 

When they go back out for the parade, the religious protesters take a step back to avoid them.


	23. instagram (jihoon/soonyoung)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Imagine Person A of your OTP is a famous musician (you decide the genre) and Person B is in the very front row in the standing section at one of their concerts. B is posting photos and videos during the concert on all of their social media sites and in one of their last posts they @ A and (only half jokingly) ask if they can get married. Person A sees the post after the concert, do they chuckle and move on? Reply to it? What happens from there?
> 
> jihoon/soonyoung

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hopefully this will work on mobile browsers omgggggggggggg 
> 
> this one was so extremely fun to write and design, because yes I made each of these instagram posts lovingly by hand with only a psd file to guide me. (you can definitely see where i began to get the hang of it.) 
> 
> i hope you guys have as much fun reading this one as i did writing it!

Soonyoung sways gently, eyes closed as he soaks in the soft strum of the guitar and the warm croon of Woozi’s voice. The song comes to a close too soon, in his opinion, but he opens his eyes and cheers wildly with the rest of the arena, bouncing and waving frantically from his standing spot in the front row, almost too close to the stage for comfort. Soonyoung lifts his phone and quickly snaps 20 or so consecutive pictures of the singer beaming at the crowd. Hurriedly, before the next song starts, he picks the best one and uploads it to Instagram.

 

 

 

“Before I sing the last song,” Jihoon pauses to let the groans echo through the venue, “I just want to say thank you. Without all of you, I would still be just Jihoon, performing in tiny dive bars. He smiles down at the front section, and for a second, their gazes lock. Soonyoung inhales sharply, electricity rushing through his veins. But Jihoon looks away like it’s nothing, and Soonyoung’s shoulders sag the slightest bit.

 

They’ve done this same thing ever since Jihoon really was just that, Jihoon, singing along to an out of tune guitar and the beat of a slightly-stoned drummer. But Soonyoung didn’t fall in love with the songs, he fell in love with the voice singing them. So he’s followed Woozi’s career all the way to now, on his first international tour. Every time, he hopes Jihoon will recognize him, and every time, Jihoon passes him over.

 

He’s missed the rest of Jihoon’s gratitude speech while he was thinking about how intense Jihoon’s eyes are, and he curses, but pulls up his camera and prepares himself for the last song of the concert.

 

-

 

“Hyung, you were awesome!” Seungkwan shouts, flinging himself onto Jihoon as soon as he comes backstage. Jihoon would be annoyed if he wasn’t so happy, but for now he’s riding a high and he lets Seungkwan cling.

 

“He was out there,” Jihoon beams. “Front row.” Seungkwan just rolls his eyes and lets go.

 

“You don’t even know his name. You haven’t once tried to look him up or talk to him after a show. I don’t understand your obsession with this guy if you aren’t even going to try to meet him,” Seungkwan grumbles. He’s had to handle his brother’s infatuation with this fan for years now, ever since Jihoon first started singing in public.

 

“How would I even start trying to find him? There’s too many people online, and besides,” he gestures to the rapidly-emptying seats of the arena, “I’ll never find him now.”

 

Seungkwan rolls his eyes again, so hard that Jihoon is surprised that they stay in his head. “Um, he was here, wasn’t he? He probably took pictures and uploaded them somewhere. You have an official hashtag and everything now. I’ll find him. If I have to, I’ll dig through your list of followers.”

 

Jihoon smiles at his younger brother gratefully. “Where would I be without you?” he asks, sincerely.

 

Seungkwan doesn’t look up from his phone. “Broke. Probably dead.”

 

-

 

Soonyoung is scrolling through his Instagram feed and drinking from his water bottle when it happens. Jimin and Minghao shout and scoot back when Soonyoung spits all his water out in their direction.

 

“Hyung, what the fuck-” Minghao starts, but is cut off by Soonyoung’s phone being shoved in his face.

 

“LOOK AT THIS, MINGHAO. OH MY FUCKING GOD.” Junhui and Taehyung have made their way over by this point, drawn out of their conversation about Pepe versus Doge by their captain’s yells.

 

Minghao obligingly reads the screen, humoring Soonyoung. Then his eyes widen and he reads it again.

 

 

“Well, that’s,” Jimin hums, “something.”

 

Soonyoung whimpers, cradling his phone. “Something? He’s just being funny and sweet and replying to fans. It’s not an actual something, Park Jimin.”

 

“I’m still older than you,” Jimin says, weakly, but it’s no use trying to get anything through to Soonyoung at the moment.

 

Taehyung pats his boyfriend softly on the head before reaching out to grab Soonyoung before he collapses. The dance team captain leans heavily against the wall and assigns drills the rest of practice.

 

 

-

 

“You’re going to have to message him or something. I don’t think he got the hint,” Jeonghan says, frowning down at the comment he and Seungkwan left on Soonyoung’s post.

 

_”His name is Kwon Soonyoung, and he’s a dancer, and a total cutie. What the hell have you been waiting for, Jihoon-ah, he’s dedicated AND handsome. And you haven’t hit it up yet?” Jeonghan huffs. He has the stupidest dongsaengs._

 

_“Did Seungkwan recruit you?” Jihoon mumbles, blushing furiously. As if he needed everyone knowing about his embarrassing crush on a fan._

 

_“Even if he hadn’t, everyone knows. You act as if we can’t see you from backstage. I know you make those eyes at him every performance.”_

 

Jihoon glares half-heartedly at nothing. His friends and brother can go take a flying leap off a short pier, for all he cares at this point. All they’ve done is scare Soonyoung off with their comment.

 

“Hyung, he likes After School _and_ 10cm. He’s perfect for you,” Seungkwan squeals, tilting his phone so that Jihoon can see his profile.

 

 

Jihoon’s eyes narrow at the pictures of himself. Seungkwan notices and smacks him on the head. “Yah!” Jihoon yelps.

 

“You already knew he’s a fan, don't be ugly about it now,” his brother scolds, wagging a finger in his face. “That's just lame, hyung.”

 

In retaliation, Jihoon shoves his headphones on and spins around to the computer, pretending to work on his song. No one says anything when he pulls up Soonyoung’s Instagram in a new tab.

 

-

 

 

“Should I say something about his hair? Is that weird?” Jihoon says, panickedly shaking his phone. “I’m not even following him yet.”

 

“Well, that’s fucking stupid of you,” Mingyu snorts from the corner. “Why not?”

 

Jihoon sighs heavily but doesn’t reply, for the very legitimate reason that he doesn’t actually have one. “Why are you here?”

 

“I’ve got nothing better to do,” Mingyu says, eyeing Jihoon as if to say ‘I know you avoided my question and I think you’re fairly stupid, but I’m going to let it go’. “Plus, it’s funny to watch you suffer.”

 

“Go die, Mingyu.”

 

“Hey, now. You know I can’t do that. Wonwoo would kill me; I’m meeting his mom this weekend.”

 

Jihoon shakes his head, but clicks the follow button on Soonyoung’s profile and pretends that his stomach doesn’t feel shaky as he turns to his keyboard and the lyrics start to spill.

 

-

 

“Down to the line about blue hair! This is crazy,” Soonyoung hisses at on-screen Seokmin. His friend’s shrug is made fuzzy through Skype, but it’s still a recognizable sign of confusion and sympathy. Soonyoung runs a hand through said blue hair and exhales heavily. “This month has been too much for me to handle.”

 

Seokmin nods in understanding. “First, you see him in major concert. Then he follows you on Instagram. And now this,” his friend lists, oblivious to Soonyoung’s defeated groan.

 

“Don’t forget the date me comment,” Soonyoung reminds wearily.

 

“Right. That too.”

 

“Remind me again why you’re attending school in a city that’s not Seoul? Because it feels wrong. You should be here. This is the sort of situation in which one desperately needs their best friend.” He picks up his phone and begins scrolling through his various feeds, refusing to look at Seokmin’s smiling face.

 

He’s not going to cry, damn it.

 

“Um, Soonyoung? You might want to check your Instagram.” Soonyoung immediately abandons trying to read a stolen tumblr post and looks up at Seokmin, wide-eyed.

 

“Why?”

 

“I just would,” Seokmin hedges.

 

 

Soonyoung screams. He keeps screaming until the RA comes and tells him to keep it down, and then he screams a little more.

 

Seokmin sits patiently at his computer. “Hyung, you have a dinner at eight. You should probably stop screaming.” His friend inhales deeply, panic in his eyes. “Yes, you have to go.”

 

“How am I supposed to deal with the fact that it was written about me?” Soonyoung whimpers. The idea that Jihoon acknowledges his existence is already too much to handle, and now he has to comprehend the fact that Jihoon wrote his latest single using him as inspiration?

 

“He’s just another human, hyung. A talented one that you admire and possibly worship, yes, but still just a human. Now,” Seokmin says briskly, clapping his hands, “I’m going to sign off, you’re going to put on decent dinner clothes, and you’re going to go have a fun time with your dance team and their respective groups of friends. Alright?”

 

Soonyoung nods dumbly, and Seokmin smiles broadly before his screen goes black and the offline symbol appears by his name. Soonyoung does what he says.

 

-

 

 

-

 

It takes a lot of self-restraint for Soonyoung not to start screaming again when he walks into the restaurant and sees Lee Jihoon sitting there at the table with Soonyoung’s friends, chatting happily. “He’s just a human, Kwon Soonyoung, and damn it, you will be normal.”

 

“Soonyoung-ah, over here!” Seungcheol, Soonyoung’s RA shouts, as if Soonyoung can’t see their huge ass table seating around 20 people. He makes his way over and drops into a seat between Jimin and Taehyung’s best friend, Jeongguk, and Seungcheol’s boyfriend, Jeonghan…

 

...Which leaves him directly across from Jihoon. Soonyoung’s skin flushes and he looks away, exchanging handshakes with Junhui and trash talk with Hoseok, a dance team friend and rival. He can almost ignore that his idol is sitting four feet away, until Jihoon’s brother speaks up loudly over the noise.

 

“So you’re the guy Jihoon is obsessed with,” Seungkwan yells.

 

The restaurant goes dead silent. Soonyoung’s blush deepens, which he didn’t even think was possible. Jihoon’s skin also turns a bright pink, and his mouth falls open as if he might say something before it snaps shut again.

 

Jeonghan turns to Seungcheol. “ _This_ is the Soonyoung you’ve told me about? Why didn’t you say anything?”

 

“How was I supposed to know my Soonyoung and Jihoon’s Soonyoung were the same person?” Seungcheol snaps back, automatically defensive.

 

“He’s not my anything,” Jihoon cuts in. Soonyoung stands up abruptly, causing his chair to squeak loudly against the floor. Everyone falls into silence again.

 

“I… need some air,” he manages, before practically running away. Jihoon buries his head in his hands and lets out a silent scream.

 

-

 

Soonyoung is fumbling with his security cigarettes, the pack he hasn’t touched since he learned smoking could prevent him from dancing but that he keeps around for cases of extreme duress. Cases like now.

 

He’s struggling to get one out with his shaking hands when he hears a voice from behind him, one he’d know anywhere. “Hey, are you okay?”

 

He drops the cigarettes in surprise. “I’ve been better,” Soonyoung breathes, giggling a little hysterically. The shock is getting to him.

 

“I’m sorry about that in there, Seungkwan is… blunt, for lack of a better word,” Jihoon says, bending down to pick up the pack. He hands it to Soonyoung, and electricity runs down Soonyoung’s spine when their fingers brush.

 

“So he was being serious?” Soonyoung asks, unable to keep the hope out of his voice. “You’re obsessed with me?”

 

Jihoon shrugs helplessly. “Probably.”

 

Soonyoung laughs and takes a step closer. “Me too.” Jihoon looks Soonyoung up and down once before pulling him in by his jacket lapels and kissing him firmly.

 

All 18 of their friends cheer loudly from the entrance.

 

-

 

EPILOGUE

 

 

**4 months later**

 

**6 months later**


	24. stories (jisoo/junhui)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> otpprompts: Person A is multilingual and has story books in another language. On train rides or in bed they read to Person B even though Person B can barely understand because they like hearing Person A speak another language.
> 
> jisoo/junhui

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dont talk to me abt how this is their 3rd chapter ok im so upst at myself   
> i could have used this prompt and written a hansol pairing, or a new jisoo pairing, or a new junhui pairing, or a minghao pairing. but here i am, with this. this is all i got. 
> 
> its p short and it’s meant to give me a break from the long ass parent!au prompt im writing (100 points if you guess the pairing, 10000 points if you guess who the kid(s) is/are) 
> 
> also i keep meaning to tell you guys: if you have a pairing/prompt/pairing and prompt you’d like to see, HIT ME UP. i’m always out of ideas, which is why i scour otpprompts and dailyau for prompts. i’d love for you guys to suggest me ones that you would like! 
> 
> the middle of this chapter pushes the T rating, but it’s not graphic and it’s not enough for me to change the whole rating to M. so be aware of that.

“Hyung, read me a story,” Junhui begs, looking up at Jisoo with wide eyes. 

It’s going to be a long car ride, and they’ve been up for 20 hours, and Jisoo really just wants to sleep. But how can he deny Junhui, especially when he asked with that face? 

“Should we finish The Hunger Games? I’ve been waiting to read the end until you would be able to listen,” he asks, smiling as his boyfriend’s face lights up. He pulls the book from his bag and opens it to the last dogeared page, clearing his throat. “I want to get out of this bed,” he begins, “to see Peeta and Cinna, to find out more about what’s been going on…” 

They both fall asleep before they reach the end, Junhui lulled to sleep by the rhythmic sounds of Jisoo’s voice, and Jisoo pulled under by Junhui’s even breaths against his neck.

>>>

They’re alone in the dorm, curled up next to each other on the couch. Junhui’s in his glasses, squinting at a book in Chinese. Jisoo is technically watching an anime, but he’s lost the plot line of the episode in favor of listening to Junhui rapidfire whisper the words under his breath.

“Will you read it to me?” Jisoo asks. In the same way Junhui likes to listen to him read in English, Jisoo finds himself attracted to the way Junhui’s native language sounds when he speaks, the way his mouth forms around the foreign words. 

With a small nod, Junhui tucks himself deeper into Jisoo’s chest and begins reading aloud in his deep, clear voice. That’s how the others find them, in their own world, one lost in the story and the other lost in the dulcet sounds of the words. 

>>>

“Say something, please,” Junhui mewls, grappling at Jisoo’s shoulders. His fingernails leave indents in the soft skin. 

Jisoo grins, a filthy, knowing smirk. He leans down and begins whispering in his boyfriend’s ear. “You don’t even know how beautiful you look right now,” he says in English. “You look fucking wrecked. It’s gorgeous,” he breathes softly. Junhui squirms, gasping and digging his grip in even tighter. 

“If you could see yourself right now, you’d wonder how I can even last. Maybe we’ll buy a mirror, just for our room, so that you’ll know how stunning you look when you’re like this, sweaty and begging-” 

He doesn’t get to finish, because Junhui does. 

>>>

“I guess this is true,” Junhui reads slowly, peering intently at the words. “but I can’t help feeling upset about it to the… to the…” 

“Extent,” Jisoo says, pointing to each syllable as he says it. Junhui narrows his eyes. 

“Extent,” he repeats, smiling when Jisoo nods. “that I’m… a- afraid I might cry.” Junhui stops mid-sentence and glares up at Jisoo. “I don’t want to read anymore,” he complains in Korean. “English is so hard.” 

“Finish the rest of the page and I’ll read the rest.” 

Junhui grumbles, but turns back to The Hunger Games. “I might cry and then I remember-” 

“You guys still aren’t done reading that book? Spoiler: she was faking it and he finds out," Hansol laughs from the doorway to their room. 

Junhui throws the book down in disgust. “Thanks a fucking lot, asshole,” he seethes. “We’re almost to the end.” Jisoo laughs and doesn’t stop him when Junhui gets up from the bed and lunges at Hansol, who takes off down the hall, screeching. 

“I’m sorry, okay, I’m sorry! Jesus, Jisoo, come get your boyfriend!” 

Jisoo picks up the book and continues reading. That should teach Hansol to give spoilers.


	25. children (seungcheol/jisoo)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i cant believe i wasted seungcheol/jeonghan on a weatherman prompt when parent aus exist
> 
> anyways the prompt is: i asked you to babysit one time and now my kids are obsessed with you plus you have the best face i’ve ever seen what’s up 
> 
> seungcheol/jisoo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> parent!au and children!96 line :D 
> 
> i just realized i wrote this prompt IN THE WRONG POV AGAIN RIP MY WHOLE LIFE 
> 
> i actually wrote a lot of this 2 weeks ago and so I lost a lot of the plot lines I was working towards, like talking about what happened with Jisoo's ex, and developing the relationship between Seungcheol and the boys more. But you know what, OH WELL.

“Here are the emergency numbers, and don’t forget that Soonyoung is allergic to peanut butter, so don’t give him any of Jihoon’s crackers even if he cries, and that bedtime is 8 o’clock for Wonwoo because he’s in trouble but the rest of them can go down after Frozen, and that Junhui has to talk to Minghao on the phone before Minghao’s bedtime or he won’t be able to sleep and-” 

Seungcheol smiles as he watches Jisoo run rapidfire around his children’s play room, doling out reminders and instructions in between picking up toys and movies that have been haphazardly thrown about. 

“Jisoo-ssi, it’s 6:15. You’ll be late if you don’t leave now,” he says, gently enough to not offend but firmly enough to cut through the man’s panic. 

Jisoo straightens up with an armful of Legos and deposits them in their proper bucket, laughing nervously. “Right, you’re right. Sorry, I’m just- I haven’t left them with a babysitter other than Jeonghan in… years, probably. Since before - anyways,” he says, neatly moving away from the topic of what Seungcheol is sure is his divorce. “You’ll be fine. Worst comes to worst, you call me at the office and I’ll make some excuse or-” 

Seungcheol raises an eyebrow. “You don’t think I can handle your kids?” He doesn’t get the chuckle he’s expecting. Instead, Jisoo looks him straight in the eye and says,

“We’ll see.” 

With that, the father of four heads out of the playroom. “Jihoon! Soonyoung! Junhui! Wonwoo! Come here, appa’s leaving!”

The loud pounding of five year old feet comes from down the hallway, making Seungcheol smile. He’s always loved kids, and having two younger siblings to take care of only made him that much more experienced in handling them. The Hong boys should be no problem.

He gets to the living room just in time to see Jisoo kiss each of his sons on the head before pulling on his jacket. “Be good for Seungcheol-ssi, you guys. I’ll see you in the morning!” He nods at Seungcheol before leaving the house. 

Seungcheol immediately eats his words. 

The second the door closes, Soonyoung breaks down into pathetic, choking sobs. Jihoon hits him in the head, yelling, “Dummy! Shut up, he’s gonna come back!” Junhui glares at Jihoon and throws the metal spoon he’s acquired from somewhere unknown. Wonwoo sits down in the middle of the floor and simply stares.

“Jihoon, don’t hit your brother,” he tries to start, but before he can get very far, Soonyoung is already smiling, hugging Jihoon with all his might. 

“Jihoonie, you promise? He’s going to come home?” Soonyoung asks, beaming down at his smaller brother. Jihoon rolls his eyes, which Seungcheol didn’t even know five year olds could do. 

“Yes, Soonyoungie. Appa is coming back.” 

Seungcheol tears his eyes away from the heart-wrenching scene only to come face to face with Junhui. “Hey, Junhui, what’s up?” 

“I need to call Minghao,” he says, a solemn look on his face. “He has to go to bed at seven because he’s younger than me, and if I don’t call him before he brushes his teeth, Mrs. Xu says I have to wait until the morning to call him, but if I don’t talk to him before bed, I can’t tell him that the monsters aren’t going to get him and then he’ll have nightmares and-” Seungcheol can see the family resemblance in the way Junhui goes on and on. Like father, like son.

“Alright then, let’s call Minghao.” 

Seungcheol trips three times on the way to the phone; once on a stray rubber ball, once on Wonwoo, who had at some point laid out flat under a pile of blankets, and once more on said blankets. Eventually, though, he manages to set up Junhui’s phone call. Before Minghao’s mother even picks up, Soonyoung is pulling on his the hem of his shirt and Jihoon is screaming from the back of the house. 

“Seungcheol-ssi? I accidentally stepped on Jihoonie’s iPod, and he won’t stop crying! He called me a mean name, but it’s okay because I stepped on his iPod. I think it’s okay, except the screen is all cracked.” 

Seungcheol winces. 

“It needs to be darker in here,” he hears Wonwoo say, and suddenly, all the lights go out. Junhui screams, which startles Seungcheol so badly that he trips backwards, knocking Soonyoung to the ground. He braces himself for the piercing shrieks. Instead, he hears bright giggling. 

“Wonwoooo,” Soonyoung laughs, “turn the lights on! You’re not a vampire.” 

The key to keeping the Hong family peaceful, he realizes, is to keep Soonyoung happy. When Soonyoung is smiling, Wonwoo actually interacts with people, and Junhui doesn’t get angry, and Jihoon tolerates his older brothers’ antics with little to no attitude. So he spends the rest of the night listening carefully for signs that something might tip Soonyoung’s delicate emotions the wrong direction. 

The rest of the night is a resounding success. 

He’s just gotten Junhui to stop quoting Olaf and go to sleep when the front door creaks open. Every one of them, even Wonwoo who had fallen asleep almost four hours ago, throws themselves out of bed and races to the door. “Appa!”

He reads the exhaustion in Jisoo’s eyes, but it doesn’t stop the man from bending down and scooping his children into a hug. 

“Appa, you’re home! Jihoonie said you’d come home, but I wasn’t sure! Eomma left and didn’t come back, but you’re home! I’m so happy!” Soonyoung shouts, unaware of how both adults grimace. Seungcheol feels his heart crack, the tiniest bit. 

“Of course I’m home, baby. I told you I’d be back after my meeting,” Jisoo says, plastering on a strained smile. Jihoon frowns at his father, but doesn’t say anything. 

The other boys start talking at once, only stopping when Seungcheol says, “It’s 10 o'clock. I’m pretty sure you guys are supposed to be asleep.” Four pairs of guilty, five-year-old eyes meet his. He gives them a stern look, trying to hide a grin. 

“Goodnight, Seungcheol-ssi! Night, Appa! We love you!” Junhui yelps, dragging Wonwoo away by the wrist. Jihoon waits for Soonyoung to give his father one last hug before pushing him back to the bedroom as well. 

Jisoo looks stunned. “Jeonghan and I can’t get them to go to bed half as well. That was amazing.” 

Seungcheol shrugs. “It’s just a matter of finding the balance between being firm and being lenient with bedtime. I let them sing Let It Go for an extra 10 minutes, but I told them they’d have to go to sleep as soon as they were done. It’s a fair deal.” 

“Huh,” Jisoo laughs. “I’ve never thought about it like that.” 

“Anyways, I’ve, uh, gotta get going. Early morning tomorrow, and all that,” Seungcheol says, a little reluctantly. Jisoo’s sons hadn’t been able to shut up about their father all night, and frankly, Seungcheol wants to know more about the man from the source itself. 

“Right, right, let me just…” Jisoo pulls his wallet out from his back pocket and tries to hand Seungcheol a chunk of cash. He holds up his hands in rejection. 

“This was a favor to Jeonghan. No payment required,” he says. “I enjoyed myself, anyways. They were good the whole time.” When he continuously refuses the money, Jisoo finally puts it away, sighing. 

“Thank you so much, Seungcheol-ssi. Have a good night.” 

“You too.” 

The door closes behind him, and Seungcheol can’t help but feel like he missed out on something. 

-

“Jisoo says that he would pay a million dollars for you to come babysit again,” Jeonghan laughs over the phone to Seungcheol. “Apparently, his kids are in love with you? What’d you do, serve them chocolate on a silver platter? You aren’t that great.” 

“Thanks, Jeonghan, that means a lot.” 

“Anytime, Cheollie. So for real, want to come help me babysit tomorrow night? We both know you don’t have anything better to do.” 

Seungcheol wants to be mad, but it’s true. “Sure, I guess. If Jisoo doesn’t mind.” 

“What part of he’d pay a million dollars don’t you understand? He definitely doesn’t mind.” Jeonghan’s voice turns sly. “Probably for more than one reason.” 

“I know what you’re insinuating, and I’m going to need you to stop,” Seungcheol says firmly. He’s not going to go down the path of what-if with a single father with a full-time job. He’s just not. 

“What, you don’t think he’s attractive?” Jeonghan scoffs. “Because if you don’t, you’re a fucking liar.” 

“That’s not what I said,” Seungcheol says, tucking the phone under his ear so that he can unload his dishwasher. “I’m just saying, stop it.” 

Jeonghan is unhindered. “Because I know he thinks you’re hot. He told me.” 

Seungcheol pauses, holding a stack of bowls in mid-air. “He said that?” 

“Unless you think the words ‘I can’t believe you’d betray my children and I by sending someone so gorgeous into my home’ mean something else.” 

A grin spreads across Seungcheol’s face. “Nice.” 

“Ugh, you’re such a gross old man. Anyways, come with me tomorrow and tell him you want to bang him into next week.” 

“Oh my god, you called me gross and followed it up with that sentence? Go die, Yoon Hypocrite. Also, he’s got kids. I can’t ‘bang him into next week’.” 

Jeonghan is silent for so long that Seungcheol almost hangs up. “Oh my god,” Jeonghan says weakly. “You’re so stupid. You have an apartment too, you know.” 

“Oh. Right.” 

“Plus, kids are a good thing. They’re living proof that his dick works.”

“I’m hanging up now, Jeonghan. Goodbye.” 

“See you tomorrow!” Seungcheol’s best friend calls cheerily before ending the call. 

He needs new friends. 

-

Against his better judgement, Seungcheol allows Jeonghan to drag him along to Jisoo’s apartment the next evening. As soon as he walks through the door, Soonyoung and Junhui are all over him, talking rapidly at him about everything he had missed since last week. Seungcheol smiles broadly over at Jihoon, who is standing further back, holding a solemn Wonwoo’s hand. The boy looks surprised for half a second before his small   
mouth curves upward in a soft replying grin. 

By the time he makes it around the barrier of five year olds, Jeonghan is loading a tray of chicken nuggets into the oven and Jisoo is slipping into his jacket. The goodbye ritual plays out the same as last weekend, a kiss on the head of each of his children and all, save for Jisoo’s lingering gaze as he says goodbye to Seungcheol.

Seungcheol blames the double espresso he had picked up on the way over for the skipping of his heartbeat. 

“Whipped,” Jeonghan sing-songs brushing past him to get to the fridge. 

Before he can snap back, he feels someone jerk on the bottom of his shirt. “Seungcheol-ssi,” Soonyoung says, “are you going to marry my appa?” 

Jeonghan doesn’t stop laughing for the next ten minutes.

-

Seungcheol isn't surprised when Jisoo texts him, asking if he's free on Saturday. He's halfway through typing his reply, _yep! ive been missing jihoon’s perspective on my music, anyways,_ when a second message from Jisoo pops up that actually does take him by surprise. 

_I was thinking we could go get a drink?_

Seungcheol doesn't hesistate. _id love that_

-

It's 2 am when they stumble into Jisoo’s apartment, giggling, holding hands, and failing to speak at a whisper, contrary to their own personal belief. 

Soonyoung and Jihoon slide out from under their blanket, turning off the flashlight they had been using to read Harry Potter, and creep into the hallway. They immediately turn away, making gagging noises. 

“Gross!” Soonyoung whispers vehemently in his brother’s ear. “They're kissing!”

Jihoon nods, scrunching his face up. “Do you think they'll get married now? Don't you marry the people you kiss?” 

Soonyoung sticks his bottom lip out in thought. “Noooo, because I kiss you all the time! And I kiss Junnie and Wonwoo! I don't want to marry you guys, you're gross.” Jihoon smacks his brother on the head. 

“We don't kiss on the lips, stupid!” Jihoon hisses. “I think they're going to get married.” 

Soonyoung smiles broadly. “Me too. I want Appa to be happy.” 

Jeonghan grins from behind the door of the guest bedroom, ear pressed up close. Jisoo is going to be over the moon.

-

EPILOGUE 

“Appa!” The sound of seven-year olds stampeding down the hall fills the newlyweds ears. 

Jisoo turns around from his cutting board, momentarily abandoning his onion. “What is it now, boys?”

“Not you, appa,” Junhui giggles. “Appa, do you think SM or JYP is better?” 

Seungcheol is struck dumb, barely registering the question underneath the shock of hearing the boys, _his_ boys, call him dad. 

“Appaaaaaa,” Soonyoung whines, bouncing on the balls of his feet and smacking Wonwoo in time with the motion. “JYP is definitely better, right?” 

“YG is the best one of the big three, I think,” he replies, and Jihoon pumps a fist. 

“I told you guys! YG has 2NE1!” he shouts, and Wonwoo frowns. 

“2NE1 is dead,” he argues as they trek back to their playroom. “Bom only came back for the MAMAs that one time, but now that CL is debuting in America…” 

Seungcheol stands frozen, eyes wide, until Jisoo wraps his arms around him from behind. “Come on, _appa_ ,” he says with a smile, “dinner won't cook itself.”


	26. brothers (wonwoo/jihoon)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt from MegaLanturn: if ure accepting pairings,somehow I really wanted a Wonwoo/Woozi fic with an overprotective Yoongi as woozi's older brother xD *hides
> 
> whoo I hope you like this!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> don't forget you guys absolutely can request pairings/prompts you want to see (: 
> 
> ft. taegi BECAUSE TAEGI IS MY SHIT!!!! so yes Yoongi and Taehyung from bt of s are in here

“Okay, so, don't freak out,” are the first words out of Jihoon’s mouth on Monday, and Wonwoo knows he's in deep shit.

He closes his eyes and braces himself. “What's up, babe?”

“Yoongi's coming home and he wants to meet you,” Jihoon says in a rush, and Wonwoo’s heart drops like a cold, hard rock into his stomach. 

“I thought he was staying up in Seoul for the break,” Wonwoo replies, voice weak. He's already planning how to break the news to his mother that her baby boy is going to die. 

“It'll be fine! Taehyung is coming home too, so he'll be around to, you know, mellow Yoongi out a little bit,” his boyfriend tries to sooth him, to no avail. “Taehyung will love you, I promise. If he likes you, then Yoongi will too.” 

Wonwoo drops his head heavily to his desk. 

“Dinner at seven on Thursday night, okay? Don't be late, please. I like your dick attached to your body.” 

He picks up his head and lets it slam back down. 

>>>

At 6:30 on Thursday evening, Wonwoo knocks on the door to the Min household, dressed in a blue button down and black skinny jeans - the nicest thing he could wear without looking like he was overtly trying to be a kiss-up. 

“Wonwoo-ah!” Mrs. Min crows, pulling him into a hug. “How are you? How is school going? Jihoonie doesn't bring you home often enough, I always tell him that, but you know how he doesn't listen-” 

“Eomma, please stop smothering my boyfriend,” Jihoon sighs from behind her, giving Wonwoo a slight half smile. Some of the weight sitting on his chest lifts at the sight. 

He drops a peck on Jihoon’s cheek. “Hello, there.” Before Jihoon even has time to finish working up his blush, Wonwoo cuts through Mrs. Min’s cooing to ask if she needs help with dinner.

“Oh, I think I've got it covered, but thank you, dear. Honey, Wonwoo is here!” she calls up the stairs before shaking her head. “That man and his football, I swear.” 

“Where's Yoongi?” Jihoon asks, and Wonwoo feels his lungs seize up. He coughs as quietly as he can into his elbow. 

“He had to run to the store to pick up another onion, he’ll be back in just a couple minutes,” she replies, oblivious to her son’s nervous fingers plucking at the edge of his shirt and the looks of sheer panic in Wonwoo’s eyes. 

The door of the house flies open, and a boy who vaguely resembles a Labrador puppy bursts through the doorway, singing something that might be a Sistar song but could also be a foreign language. This must be Taehyung, Wonwoo realizes. 

“Hello, family, we’re back!” Taehyung yells, smiling broadly. His gaze falls on Wonwoo and he bolts forward. “You're Wonwoo!” he says, and he nods. He's a little distracted by his black choker and the random cutouts in his shirt. “I'm Kim Taehyung, Yoongi’s boyfriend. Jihoonie talks about you a lot,” Taehyung continues, grabbing onto Wonwoo’s hand. “Do you believe in aliens?” 

“Well, we can't be the only ones in the universe, there's just too much space.” 

Taehyung’s smile blows wide until his eyes disappear. “ _Exactly_ ,” he gasps. “YOONGI, I LIKE HIM, SO YOU DON’T HAVE TO THREATEN HIM OR ANYTHING!” 

“Jesus, Tae, I’m right here. Stop screaming.” 

“Hello, Yoongi-ssi! It's nice to meet you,” Wonwoo says, immediately bowing. “You too, Taehyung-ssi.” 

“You can call me hyung,” Taehyung says, clicking his tongue. Yoongi doesn't say anything. 

Wonwoo is saved by Mrs. Min, who calls them in for dinner. 

>>>

Jihoon spends the entire meal in an attempt to calm Wonwoo down. Wonwoo finds himself staring down at his plate more than engaging in the conversation, too afraid to look up at Yoongi. Yoongi splits his attention between side-eyeing the boy holding his brother’s hand underneath the table and corralling Taehyung’s energy to a livable level. Taehyung focuses on devouring his bulgogi, mostly, but also carrying on an intense and heated argument with Yoongi’s dad about whether Kanye or Rihanna had the best new release. 

Mr. Min is about to take the victory in favor of Rihanna when Yoongi’s self control snaps. “Wonwoo, why do you think you're good enough for my brother?” 

The table falls dead silent, and Taehyung and Jihoon let out identical sighs of long-suffering. 

Wonwoo looks up from staring at his spoon, and, with a confidence he didn't even know he had, stares Yoongi straight in the eye. “I’m not good enough for your brother,” he says, not a trace of insincerity in his voice. “I hope that someday I can be worthy of him, because he is the most talented, loving, and important person I know, and he deserves the world. But he chose me, and so I'm working every day to be good enough.” 

No one speaks, and Wonwoo and Yoongi’s eyes stay locked for what feels like hours before Jihoon breaks the silence. “God,” he croaks, trying to subtly wipe away a tear. “These aren’t our wedding vows, you know.” 

Yoongi gives Wonwoo a brisk nod and turns back to his food. 

Wonwoo melts back into his chair, fear leaving him boneless for the rest of the meal. 

>>>

“Bye Wonwoo-ah! Nice meeting you!” Taehyung calls, waving goodbye from the kitchen where he's struggling to pull the lid off of a carton of coconut gelato. Wonwoo smothers a snort as Yoongi rolls his eyes and untwists the top. 

“You too, hyung, and you, Yoongi-ssi,” Wonwoo yells back as he opens the door to follow Jihoon outside. 

“Don't forget, we’ll cut your sad little ass off if you hurt Jihoonie! Have a good night!” 

Wonwoo shivers and pulls the door shut firmly behind him. “Your brother’s boyfriend is almost scarier than your brother.” 

“Taehyung-hyung wouldn't hurt a fly. He’d just tell hyung to hurt the fly for him,” Jihoon says, shrugging. It fails to make Wonwoo feel any better. 

“Hey, what you said at dinner… Did you mean it?” Wonwoo looks at his boyfriend in surprise. Jihoon is kicking dirt around with his foot and looking down at the ground, a clear sign of the insecurity he rarely shows. 

Wonwoo smiles down at his beautiful boyfriend. “I meant every word. And I’d stare your brother in the face every day if it meant I could get you to believe how much I adore and admire you.” 

Jihoon melts. 

“No kissing!” Yoongi shouts from the window, and Jihoon startles, smacking his forehead against Wonwoo’s. 

“Go away, hyung!” he yells at his brother. “Jesus, I never got mad at you for making out with Taehyung-hyung all over the counter last time!” 

Taehyung appears in the windowpane at Yoongi’s shoulder. “I told you he saw us,” he hums. 

Wonwoo drops his head onto the top of Jihoon’s and just laughs.


	27. growing up (minghao/junhui)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which I flesh out ch 26 junhui and minghao and fuck with everyone's ages because I'm lazy beyond belief
> 
> minghao/junhui

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there's a lot of details I didn't add in that I wanted to, and a lot of things I didn't explain as well as I would have liked, etc. 
> 
> I should probably start outlining this shit wow idk anyways sorry for this haphazard mess! I love childhood friends to lovers trope. 
> 
> ft. a lil teenage angst, an emotionally abusive mother, and a little masturbation. please take the abuse warning seriously because Minghao's mom is a serious bitch. also mingming. #ripmingming2k16 pledis did him so bad

THREE YEARS OLD 

They met in daycare, when Junhui was still fresh from the Chinese orphanage system and Minghao was the wide-eyed baby boy of two busy surgeons. Junhui gravitates towards the boy who speaks in a mixture of his home language and the language his new family speaks, the familiar sounds wrapping him up and warming his chest.

He picks up his toy truck and his fireman doll and walks over to the boy, carefully setting down his offerings at his knee. “Nǐ hǎo,” he says shyly, lowering himself to the ground. 

“Nǐ hǎo,” the boy replies, voice soft, eyes lowered to the truck. “Nǐ xiǎng hé wǒ wán xiāofáng yuán?”

“Ye,” Junhui replies, slipping into Korean. 

When he comes for pick-up, Jisoo finds his newest son napping, curled into a ball, fingers clutching the hand of a small boy who stares at Junhui with stars in his eyes. 

FOUR YEARS OLD

“Do you ever think that there’s monsters under your bed?” Minghao asks, and Junhui looks up, eyes narrowed. 

“Monsters? Those don’t exist, Hao, duh! Appa and Eomma tell me that all the time, because I was afraid that the lady from the orphanage was hiding in the closet but my brother told me that was dumb and that they brought me home so that she could never find me. So monsters definitely don’t exist. Appa never lies.” 

“Which brother?” Minghao asks, with an air of someone who has frequently inquired the same thing before. 

“I think Soonyoung.” As if summoned by the sound of his name, a small brunette pops his head out of the back door. 

“Junhuiiiiii, appa and eomma want to see us,” Soonyoung says. “Hi, Minghao! My eomma says you need to go home now but you can come back over tomorrow, okay?” 

Minghao nods and stands up, brushing grass off of his pants. Before he can leave, Junhui snags his wrist. “I’ll call you tonight, ‘kay? I’ll remind you that monsters aren’t real, just like my eomma does for me.”

The smile he gets in return is brilliant. “Love you, Junnie! See you tomorrow!”

And the next day, when Junhui’s mother and his smile are gone, Minghao doesn’t say anything. He just sits next to his best friend, lays his head on his shoulder, and lets him cry. 

FIVE YEARS OLD

“Junnie, what does divorce mean?” Minghao asks in a small voice. He’s curled under the blanket his grandmother made for him, hiding from his mother’s yelling and his father’s anger. 

“It’s when your eomma leaves because she finds out your appa sometimes likes to kiss men, too,” Junhui answers, stomach dropping. Does Minghao’s appa like men like his appa does? 

Minghao is silent on the other end of the line, for so long that Junhui thinks he hung up. “I don’t think my Bà wants to kiss a man. I don’t think my Māmā likes my Bà anymore. They yell at each other a lot and get really mad at me sometimes.”

“Let me ask Seungcheol-ssi what divorce is, okay?” Junhui says, then holds his hand against the phone, screaming, “SEUNGCHEOL-SSI!”

Minghao waits patiently, trying to hold back his tears. 

“Okay, he said divorce is when your parents decide they don’t want to be married anymore and so they get a divorce, but they still love you lots and lots even if you never get to see them anymore,” Junhui explains, and Minghao begins crying, choking, heaving sobs. 

The line sits silent for hours, save for Minghao’s cries. 

His breathing begins to level out, and the tear tracks on his face dry in salty streaks down his cheeks. “Junnie, will my Bà still love me even if he and Māmā aren’t married anymore?” 

Junhui sits in the living room, with the lights off because Wonwoo wanted to play vampire again, tears rolling down his cheeks, and he says, “Of course, Hao. It’s not your fault. He’ll love you lots still, and your Māmā will love you too, and I’ll love you and my appa will love you and Jihoonie and Wonwoo will love you, and Soonyoungie will love you. You can come live with me if you want, okay? There’s no monsters at my house, but sometimes,” his voice drops to a whisper, “Seungcheol-ssi and my appa kiss. It’s super gross.” 

Minghao giggles, and the sound spreads a smile across Junhui’s wet face. 

“I love you, Junnie.”

“Love you too, Hao. I’ll see you tomorrow at school! Sleep well, okay? There’s no monster in the world that can get you while I’m around.” 

SEVEN YEARS OLD

Junhui comes into class, bouncing wildly, hand clasped in Jihoon’s. He wishes he could tell Minghao the news with all his brothers, but stupid Mrs. Kim said that the Hong boys couldn’t be in the same class this year because they talked too much in her class last year, so Wonwoo and Soonyoungie got put in Mr. Boo’s class where they sing all the time, which is so much better than Mr. Chwe’s class where he wants everyone to rap the multiplication tables. 

He spots Minghao sitting at their table, just like he is every morning. His Māmā drops him off super early because she has to be up at the hospital really early. They’ve asked their appa to ask Ms. Zhang if she can just drop him off at their house instead of at school but she said it was too much hassle. 

“Hao, guess what!” Junhui squeaks excitedly, yanking on Jihoon’s hand as he scrambles to get to the table that much faster. 

Minghao looks up from his coloring book. “What?”

“No, you gotta guess,” Jihoon says, flopping down into his chair. He hisses as he realizes he forgot to finish his handwriting practice and quickly pulls it out in an attempt to get it done before Mr. Chwe remembers that they had homework. 

Minghao taps his crayon against his chin, the way he’s seen Mr. Hong do with his pen when he’s thinking about suing someone. “Your appa is going to marry Seungcheol-ssi?” 

Junhui’s jaw drops open. “How’d you guess? What the heck, you ruined the surprise!”

Minghao smirks. “I saw Soonyoung at the water fountain,” he says smugly, and Junhui and Jihoon adopt matching scowls. Their dumb bunny brother can’t keep a secret. 

“Are you excited to have two appas?” Minghao asks, looking back down at his picture, filling in the clouds grey. 

Junhui babbles happily at him in the ten minutes it takes Mr. Chwe to stop staring across the hall at Mr. Boo, and Minghao tries his best not to let the clawing jealousy that’s rising in stomach ruin how happy he is for him.

ELEVEN YEARS OLD

“Park Sooyoung kissed me today at lunch,” Soonyoung announces at the dinner table, looking vaguely disgusted with the fact. 

Jisoo hums around his chopsticks. “I assume you didn’t like it?” 

“Kissing is weird,” Wonwoo declares. “Sometimes Mingyu kisses me but I don’t really like it.”

Jihoon laughs out loud. “Mingyu is a baby. I can’t believe you let a baby kiss you.”

“He is not! Take it back, stupid!” 

Seungcheol pins them both with a sharp look, and they immediately relax into their chairs with an abashed “sorry, appa.” Minghao watches them cycle from arguing to joking and back again, comfortable and loving and _happy_ , and feels so alone he can hardly think.

Before she dropped him off, Ms. Zhang reminded Minghao not be a bother to the Hongs, and to clear his plate, and to be grateful because God knows they put up with him enough, she can’t believe how often they ask him to come over but she isn’t going to say no, obviously, she’s got a pre-op tonight and heaven forbid she’s late and they fuck something up, those idiots working the floor never remember… 

Soonyoung spends fifteen minutes expounding on why girls freak him out, and Junhui holds Minghao’s hand delicately under the table, running his thumb over his palm, willing away the hurt and the embarrassment and the self-hatred with the small touch.

When Minghao’s nightmares wake him up, dry sobs clogging his throat, and Junhui pads his way into his fathers’ bedroom and taps his appa on the shoulder for help, Jisoo wraps his son’s best friend up in his arms and hates the boy’s mother with aggression. 

SIXTEEN YEARS OLD

It’s more unusual for Minghao to be absent from the Hong house than to be present. Six nights out of seven, he sleeps in the guest bedroom. They added his name into the chore chart, and on Tuesdays he helps Seungcheol pull weeds from the garden and gives their Pomeranian, Tzuyu, her bath. He has a toothbrush in the bathroom and his shoes have their own cubby by the door, and his teachers are used to seeing the last name Hong signed on Minghao’s papers more than the name Zhang. 

Sometimes Minghao hears Seungcheol and Jisoo whispering heatedly to each other, about whether it’s healthy or not, and if there’s a legal loophole they can use, and other things he knows are being discussed for his well-being but would rather not hear about. 

And sometimes he wants to kiss Junhui. 

But Junhui is dating a boy named Mingming, a Chinese exchange student who’s a year below them and has hair that hangs in a fringe over his eyes. Minghao sees them in the hall, heads touching, whispering and laughing about nothing. Once, Mingming came over for dinner and afterwards Junhui kissed him the hallway before he left, and Minghao thought his heart might stop beating for good. 

Sometimes Junhui wants to kiss Minghao. 

But he’s afraid that Minghao will hate him, will be disgusted by the idea of kissing his best friend, and so he lets himself be drawn in by the electric personality of Yao Mingming, who is just as flirty and dramatic as Junhui is. 

He knows it’s wrong to want to press Minghao up against the wall and lick at his mouth until his chest fills back up with the air it’s been missing since he was fourteen and started thinking about the way Minghao’s mouth might feel against his. He knows he shouldn’t think about his best friend in the shower, shouldn’t fantasize about his small voice and big eyes and the thin line of his mouth, but he can’t help it.

One night, Junhui walks in on Minghao changing, and his mouth goes dry and his eyes blow wide, and he comes harder than he ever has in the privacy of his room, teeth clamped down on his pillow so he doesn’t give it away.

He breaks up with Mingming the next afternoon and doesn’t see the look of sheer relief and euphoria on Minghao’s face.

EIGHTEEN YEARS OLD

Minghao inhales, and the brisk summer breeze smells like sunshine and feels like freedom against his skin. 

University is a relief like none other that he’s ever felt, away from his mother’s aggression and away from the crushing feeling of being in love with someone who doesn’t love him back. Before he left, his mother said, “don’t waste your time on a stupid degree like dance.” Jisoo sat him down and reminded him to eat well, and to make sure Soonyoung doesn’t get his heart broken by some boy with cute hips on their dance team, and to be happy. Seungcheol patted him on the back and told him, “Minghao-ah, don’t forget that to do what you want is the most important thing. Don’t let anyone tell you that what you love is stupid. And Junhui is an idiot. I hope you won’t let that stop you from going after what you want.” 

Without thinking, Minghao said, “I thought you just told me not to let anyone tell me that what I love is stupid.”

Seungcheol gave him a proud smile. “You’re going to do just fine, aren’t you?” 

NINETEEN YEARS OLD

It’s hard to instigate a relationship with someone who’s attending university three hours away, but Minghao makes it work, and finally, _finally_ , he kisses the boy who he’s loved since he offered him a fire truck on the carpet of a daycare center. 

Junhui spins Minghao around and presses him against the washing machine, desperately chasing his lips. Minghao giggles breathlessly. “We’re going to get caught, Junnie.” 

“Don’t care,” Junhui breathes, cataloging the taste of Minghao’s smile. He’s determined to kiss Minghao in every mood, at every time of day. He's got a lot to catch up on. 

“How long?” Minghao asks, when Junhui lets him catch a breath. “How long have you wanted to do this?” 

They freeze when they hear the front door open and close, and relax when they hear Jihoon singing loudly on the way to his bedroom. Junhui nuzzles behind Minghao’s ear and says, “since before Mingming, I think.” 

Minghao’s face crumples up of its own accord. Junhui smiles at him fondly and smooths out the wrinkle between his eyebrows with a thumb. “Jealous, Hao?” 

His answer comes in the form of a sharp bite to his lower lip, and they don't talk after that. 

TWENTY YEARS OLD

“Soonyoungie is debuting next month, and I'm worried about him because he hasn't called in a month, but Jihoonie says he's okay, and you know they got scouted by the same company even though he told them he didn't want to be an idol, so he's a producer there and he gets to spend time with Soonyoungie,” Minghao reads aloud. “Mingyu is graduating tomorrow, and then we’re going to fly to Japan for the summer for my internship and his vacation. What a fucker. I hope he appreciates that I'm working towards our future while he's frolicing around, wasting money on vending machines.” 

Junhui snorts and rolls his eyes, but his mouth curves in a content, fond smile that belies his exasperation. 

“Jisoo appa is busy at the firm, but he says to tell you and Junnie to be safe and happy, and to keep working hard. Seungcheol appa says to tell you that he's glad you found something you're passionate about to study. He thinks social work is something you'll do really well in. 

Don’t let Junhui convince you to do any stupid shit, yeah? See you at Christmas! Love, Wonwoo.” 

“I'm tired of his ass acting like I'm the irresponsible one in this relationship,” Junhui complains loudly, looking up from his sketchbook. “Honestly, why won't anyone believe that it was your idea to get blackout drunk on Halloween and sleep on the elementary playground?” 

Minghao kicks at his leg, the study abroad dorm rooms being small enough so that he can actually reach the desk chair from the bed. “Maybe because it _was_ your idea,” he reminds his boyfriend hotly. “I've never been irresponsible in my life.” 

Junhui, scowling, asks, “Is Soonyoung’s broadcast on yet?” 

And Minghao looks at him, hands covered in charcoal and a furrow between his brow, and is so in love he can barely breathe.


	28. silver (hansol/soonyoung)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt from Dorian: "A human getting pissed at their vampire boyfriend so they put in a silver sterling tongue stud (jewelry in general) and their boyfriend is just standing five feet away like 'babe c'mon'"
> 
> hansol/soonyoung

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> y'all know I'm a sucker for this kind of thing so (: and because I did the shortest prompt for hansoon I'm gonna do them again.
> 
> ft. my love of soonyoung being the boyfriend of All The Vampires

“Hansol, what the fuck is this?” Soonyoung stands in the middle of the kitchen, tapping his foot rapidly, arms crossed, as his boyfriend skids across the tile floor on his socks. 

“What is what?” Hansol asks, oblivious to the source of Soonyoung’s annoyance. 

“ _This_ ,” Soonyoung hisses, stepping aside to reveal a blood packet leaking all over his granite countertop. 

Hansol winces, and it's clear that he had hoped he would be able to clean it up before Soonyoung saw. “Sorry, babe, I'll take care of it.” 

“You better, Chwe Hansol, you damn well better. How am I supposed to make breakfast when you leave your shit all over my counters? Honestly, it's like, you’ve had 120 years of immortality and you still don't have any manners,” Soonyoung rants, aggressively slamming down a cutting board and attacking a bell pepper with an overly large knife. 

“It's just a little blood, hyung, please calm down.” 

“Did you just tell me to _calm down_?” 

Hansol’s eyes widen and he hurriedly sprays the countertop with the bleach. Living for 120 years doesn't really prepare you for Kwon Soonyoung’s wrath. 

( ; _ ; )/ (¬_¬)

Soonyoung closes his eyes and wills himself not to scream. It's not a big deal that Hansol wiped off the counter with one of his new white towels. Blood stains comes out. Sometimes. 

He knew that being in love with a vampire would mean blood everywhere. He's not stupid. He just wishes Hansol wouldn't be such a little bitch about it all the time. 

“Hansol,” he says, very calmly, knowing his boyfriend can hear him. “If you use my good towels to clean up your messes one more time, God help you, I will put a stake through your heart.” 

Hansol swallows hard. 

( ; _ ; )/ (¬_¬)

“I don't want to sound like his mother, or anything, but how stupid easy is it to just get one of the blood-approved towels out of the cabinet?” Soonyoung complains. Jihoon hums on the other end of the line. 

“Maybe you should just make him eat outside, or something. Until he gets the idea.” 

“Yah, Lee Jihoon, he's a vampire, not a dog. Jesus.” Soonyoung wonders if it's late to drop his best friend, or if he can just shrug off 18 years of friendship. Honestly. 

“Just put garlic in your spaghetti or something. I don't know and I don't care what you do,” Jihoon snarks, and Soonyoung decides that yes, he can live with 18 years of his life being dead to him. 

“Wait, wait, wait. Do you still have that tongue stud from when we were in college?” 

Soonyoung runs his tongue over his teeth, feeling the plastic stud clack against the bone. “Yeah, why?” 

In reply, Jihoon starts cackling. 

( ; _ ; )/ (¬_¬)

Hansol knows something is wrong the instant he hears the car pull into the driveway. Soonyoung had left the house entirely after Hansol had forgotten to wipe his mouth before giving him a kiss, and he had been afraid that Soonyoung wouldn't be coming back tonight at all. 

He realizes what it is as soon as Soonyoung opens the door and gives him a huge smile. 

“Hyung, don't be like this.” 

Soonyoung gives him an innocent flutter of his eyelashes. “Don't be like what? I just got a new tongue stud. Jihoonie gave it to me.” He sticks out his tongue and Hansol glares at him. 

“This isn't funny, hyung,” he says, trying to use serious, commanding tone, but Soonyoung only laughs. What the fuck good is being a vampire if you can't intimidate people once in a while?” 

“Oh, this is _hilarious_ ,” Soonyoung laughs. 

“Babe, come on.” Hansol is standing a safe distance away, eyes pleading with Soonyoung to take the stud out. 

“Have a good night, sweetheart! See you in the morning. Or maybe not, I don't really know how bad your rejection of silver is. I hope you don't die,” Soonyoung says, bottom lip poking out in false pity. 

Hansol pins him with a nasty look. “A silver tongue stud can't kill me from across the house,” he spits. 

“Oh, that's good. I’d probably miss you. I wouldn't miss _blood being smeared across my neck_ , but I’d miss you.” 

“I said I was sorry!”

“Good night, Hansol.” 

Soonyoung leaves the room smiling, and Hansol falls onto the couch, defeated, feeling the slight headache forming from the proximity of the silver. He's going to have a long night. 

( ; _ ; )/ (¬_¬)

EPILOGUE: FOUR MONTHS LATER

“Jihoon finally feels safe again and he’s coming over later,” Soonyoung starts, and Hansol’s fangs immediately lengthen slightly in his mouth. “You're not allowed to kill him for the tongue stud thing.” 

“What if I killed him, like a little bit. I could totally turn him in time, don't even worry about it.” 

“That's fucked up, Chwe Hansol.” 

“No more fucked up than punishing me with something I'm painfully allergic to!” 

“Blah, blah, blah, you're fine. Plus, you don't leave blood everywhere anymore, so it worked and now I’ll never have to do it again.” 

“You are _so_ lucky I love you, hyung.”

Soonyoung's face softens, and he gives Hansol a smile. “Yeah, I am.”


	29. superheroes II (soonyoung/minghao)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> thanks @ rhia for this prompt ur the best babe  
> “one where they’re living in apartments and one is a floor above the other and the lower floor discovers he has powers and flies through the ceiling and is like oops :) i didn’t just do that then the second one’s like ok but bitch me too……..”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been SOOOOO LONG since I posted I'm so sorry but school has gotten busy (I'm almost done!!!) and I hit a massive block and anyways! I'm hopefully over it and can finish everything I've started (: 
> 
> I struggle so much with remember to explain details but i've put things I want to add in at the bottom!! 
> 
> and I promise I am working on requests and stuff I really have like a million prompts started in my drive I just have to find the motivation 
> 
> lmao alright lets think back to chapter 3 in which jeonghan and jisoo were superhero/supervillain rivals but then fell in love (thats the whole story pls). at the end minghao pushes soonyoung off the roof for being an idiot and i said that they’re partners. so yeah. this is their story

It should have been just another painfully boring day for Soonyoung. Class in the morning, followed by dance practice until either the hunger pains hit or he has another class, and then back to his shoddy, cold apartment for a rousing evening of either lab prep and eating ramyun, deep cleaning the perpetually sketchy bathroom and eating ramyun, or designing choreography and eating, to no one’s surprise, ramyun. Somewhere between the lab prep and the ramyun is when it happened. 

Soonyoung levitated two feet off the ground. 

There he was, furiously taking notes on the effects of hydrochloric acid on adenine, when all of a sudden his feet are no longer touching the floor. He barely had time to be shocked before he crumpled back down to the linoleum, legs bent awkwardly underneath him. He took a second to be grateful for his flexible dancer limbs before freaking out in earnest. 

!¡

In the apartment directly upstairs, a blonde Chinese boy furrowed his brow in frustration, unsure why the pencil he was trying to levitate off the carpet wouldn't move. 

!¡

“I swear to God it happened,” Soonyoung huffs, slapping his hand onto the lab table. Junhui studiously ignores him, bending over his microscope instead. “Junhui,” he whines. “Listen to me.”

“I'm busy, Soonyoung. Clearly. While you are levitating off into the air, some of us are trying to get their lab hours.” 

Soonyoung pouts. “I’m not _not_ trying to get my lab hours, I'm just saying that this is important.” 

With a heaving sigh, Junhui turns the microscope light off and looks up, pinning his best friend with a piercing glare that leaves Soonyoung squirming. It's a look that says that Junhui will commit unfeeling murder if he ever signs up for the lab only to be interrupted like this ever again. Soonyoung has a flashback to watching Junhui stab a grinding pervert at a bar with a fork, and he demurely sits down and waits for him to finish. 

“Your ass better have levitated somewhere over the rainbow, because I think I just found the mutation on the 7th chromosome, and if you rudely disturbed my research project for an April Fools joke I will end you,” Junhui says, loudly complaining as they walk off campus. 

Soonyoung huffs. “One, it's October. Two, my pranks are way better than this. And three-”

“How long is this list?”

“ _Three_ , I’m not lying. Something picked me up, held me in the air, and then put me down. Except nothing physically picked me up.” 

“Right. Okay, well, what am I supposed to do about it?” Junhui asks, sliding his card to open the subway gate. He scowls furiously at a woman who brushes past him, huge briefcase banging into his side. 

Soonyoung follows close behind, hurrying through before the gate shuts. He spares a second to feel guilty for piggybacking off of Junhui’s subway fare, but Seoul has taken enough of his money, it won't hurt anyone if he sneaks a free ride this one time. Plus, he forgot his card at the apartment. “I don't know. Maybe tell me that I'm not going crazy and that you believe me?” 

“I must not tell lies.” Junhui takes a finger and draws a lightning bolt on his forehead, looking solemn. Soonyoung kicks him in the shin. 

“Asshole.” 

Junhui makes to kick him back, but then a pregnant woman waddles onto the subway, forcing them to step to the side, and Soonyoung is safe. 

!¡

“Yah, Junnie, where are all the towels?” Soonyoung screams, head poking out of the bathroom. When he gets no answer, he frowns. He either has to use his shirt as a towel or hope for the best and make a run for it. He looks at the pile of now-soaked clothes on the bathroom floor. His best bet is that Junhui isn't home, and that he can make the ten step run past the kitchen to his room. It'll be fine. 

It's not fine. 

Soonyoung is in the clear from step one to five. On step six, he makes it to the living room, where he discovers that Junhui actually is home, and is in fact making out enthusiastically with the emo boy from downstairs. Step seven sees him slipping on the water dripping from his body and screaming, startling the people on the couch. And on step eight, Soonyoung rockets through the ceiling into the apartment above.

In the future, he’ll deny that he ever said anything so stupid, but upon discovering that the apartment above is occupied by a small boy with wide eyes and fluffy curls, Soonyoung blurts, “Lovely weather we’re having.” 

“What the fuck, Soonyoung!” Junhui screams from the floor below. “What! The! Fuck!” 

The owner of the apartment is still staring in a mixture of horror, interest, and shock, which reminds Soonyoung that he’s standing in a stranger’s home in the bare ass nude, next to a hole in the floor that he created. He looks at the floor with despair. They won't be getting their deposit back. 

“Um… are you okay?” the boy asks, looking more surprised about the large gap in his hardwood than the fact that Soonyoung just _flew into his apartment._

“Can I borrow a towel?” 

!¡

“I can't believe we’ve been best friends for twelve years and you never told me that you can fucking _read minds_!” Soonyoung says, looking at his lap in shock and dismay. His roommate has the decency to at least look abashed, if not repentant. 

-

Junhui had come leaping up the stairs, hollering obscenities. He knocked politely, as if his roommate hadn't just burst through the ceiling, and immediately stopped dead in the doorway. _“Minghao?”_

Soonyoung looked up at him in surprise, but by that point, the stranger was already clinging to Junhui and openly sobbing. 

With the boy - Minghao, Soonyoung supposed - still attached to his side, Junhui let the story he'd kept a secret for over fifteen years out into the open.

-

“It's not that I didn't want to tell you,” Junhui sighs, petting Minghao’s hair. “It's that it was safer if you didn't know.” 

Soonyoung fiddles with a loose string on the edge of his borrowed towel. “Are you friends with me because of my powers?” 

“I didn't even know you had powers until just now. I didn't even connect the telepathic levitation with anything important until just now. I thought you were joking.”

“I told you!” Minghao suddenly looks up at Soonyoung with wide eyes.

“I thought something was wrong! I was just trying to pick up my pencil but it wouldn't move, and it felt like I was picking up something super heavy,” Soonyoung sniffs in offense, “but I had no idea what it was.” 

Junhui shrugs. “A couple of escaped research subjects from a shady Chinese lab, a regular college boy with latent powers, in a city rampant with crime- it sounds like the plot of a bad Marvel knockoff movie.” 

“You mean a DC movie?” Minghao asks, and Soonyoung snorts.

“Shots fired, son.” 

!¡

“No, Soonyoung, I cannot help you help you discover your powers or whatever emotional bullshit you want me to help you with. I was right, I did find the mutation on the 7th chromosome, and if you don't leave me alone with my microscope, I’ll make _you_ my research project. Speaking of, you should probably start yours.” 

!¡

So Soonyoung is forced to go to Minghao for help. It isn't that he has anything against Minghao, in fact he likes him. But there’s something about a boy who’s so enveloped in his own world that his long-lost childhood friend didn't even realize he lived a floor below him that frightens Soonyoung a little. 

He jumps up through the hole in his ceiling - they still aren't sure how to explain it to the landlord - and waves at Minghao, shivers of pleasure running down his spine at the feeling of using his flight. 

“Hi, hyung. Did you need help with your calculus again?” Minghao inquires, head hanging off the edge of his bed, twirling a pen in his fingers. 

“Actually, I was wondering if you could help me, um, figure out how to use my power?” 

Minghao shrugs, sitting up to face the blonde. “It really depends on if it's a mental ability or something in your physical makeup that renders you able to fly. If it's mental, I can help. If not, then you're dead out of luck.” 

Soonyoung winces. “Maybe watch your wording.” 

!¡

It's a mental thing. 

Minghao slowly creeps up to the bed where a prone, drugged Soonyoung lies, sleeping soundly. The knife in his hand catches slightly on the blanket, and Minghao freezes as the sleeping boy shifts. When he's sure Soonyoung won't wake up, he lifts the knife up and plunges down into-

Soonyoung’s fist jerks up, wrenching the knife free from Minghao’s grip. Eyes still closed, he flies over to the kitchen and slips the knife carefully into its slot in the block. As if nothing happened, he slides back under the covers and resumes snoring. 

Minghao hums and marks it down on his clipboard.

!¡

“You could study your own DNA for your project,” Junhui suggests, rather unhelpfully in Soonyoung’s opinion.

“That would definitely get me a degree. I can see the title of my report now: _Flight Ability Caused By Hormone In Brain Produced By Extra Chromosome._ They wouldn't give me a diploma, they'd give me therapy.” 

“I actually think your ability is caused by an extended chromosome, not an extra one.” 

Soonyoung scowls. “Didn't your mother ever tell you if you don't have anything helpful to say, don't say anything at all?” 

“I don't know, I don't have any memories of her,” Junhui deadpans, and Minghao snorts from the corner of the room. 

“Low blow, ge. You can't play the lab rat orphan card whenever you feel like,” he says, and Soonyoung gives him a grateful smile. 

For the past few weeks, over the time Minghao has been helping him work on his ability, Soonyoung has realized that every time he looks at the smaller boy, his heart does a flip. Eventually he’ll have to stop blaming it on his body adjusting around its new discovery, but for now, his second power might as well be emotional avoidance with how well he's pushing his feelings aside. 

Junhui is snarking back at Minghao, but he's giving Soonyoung a deep and meaningful look that he chooses to ignore. Fuck a mind reader. Jesus. 

“I fucking heard that, Soonyoung,” Junhui says, shooting his friend a playful glare. “Don't be rude just because you like-” 

“Taquitos! Wow, I love taquitos,” Soonyoung laughs uncomfortably. _shut the hell up why do you hate me does our friendship mean nothing to you_

Soonyoung’s now-ex-best friend cackles. Loudly. 

“What's a taquito?” Minghao asks, head titles in a perfect imitation of a puppy. 

Soonyoung gasps loudly. “Taquitos are a miracle from God, is what they are. We’re getting some right now. It's settled.” 

“Oops, sorry, but I can't,” Junhui drawls, sounding entirely unapologetic. “I have a prior arrangement.” 

_are you really going to make me confront my feelings just because you want to get busy with that asshole kid from the floor below us damn you wen junhui_

“Wonwoo did nothing to you. Plus, I have to keep him now since he saw you fly through the ceiling. It's either this or kill him. So yes, I am. Have fun, you two!” With that, Junhui, smirking, flounces out of their apartment. 

Minghao blinks slowly once, twice, a third time. “So… taquitos?” 

!¡

“You know how phallic this is, right? We’re eating a plate of phallic food. Is this an innuendo, Kwon Soonyoung? Are you trying to tell me something?” 

“No! Well, maybe. I mean, not on purpose, but also yes.” 

“Finally, you dumbass.”

!¡

Soonyoung wakes up to the sound of Minghao snuffling softly in his ear, breathing even and deep in his rest. He lifts a hand from under the covers and gently traces random characters onto the bare skin of Minghao’s shoulder. 

Last night had been crazy, and when Minghao had pushed him against the door and dropped to the ground and-

The apartment door opens. Junhui takes one look at him, face crumpling in disgust immediately. “Nope. Nope. It's too early for this. I’m a _mind reader_ , Soonyoung,” he hisses. “Please censor your thoughts.” 

“It's not my fault you hear everything! Can't you turn it off or something?” 

Junhui glares, but his face softens into a smile. “Hey, I'm really happy for you guys. Just. Don't fuck him up, okay? He's been through a lot.” 

_this is unfair why are you threatening me honestly junhui i’m not going to-_

“You act as if I haven't talked to him about hurting you, too. You're still my best friend, stupid. Now go back to sleep. Little lovebirds, nesting already.” 

_i hate you_

!¡

Soonyoung lugs the basket through the convenience store, chock full of pocket sweat, strawberry pocky, and of course, ramen. Minghao bounces up ahead of him in the aisle, fingering every bright package and reading the labels on the drinks aloud. 

“This one has 49 grams of sugar, holy shit!” 

The blonde looks warily into his basket and reads one of the ramen packets. 94 grams of salt. He shamefully covers it with a box of pocky. “Wow, that's awful.”

“I know!” 

Before Minghao can read the next bottle, the cashier lets out a bloodcurdling scream. Soonyoung whips his head around to see a man holding a gun, pointing straight at the woman. “Open the register and take out the money,” the man barks, roughly gesturing with his weapon. 

A rush of adrenaline sweeps over Soonyoung, and he drops the basket. Minghao jerks at the sound, startled out of his shock, panic clearly written in his eyes. 

Soonyoung sees red. 

One second he's standing in the aisle, and the next, he's literally flying across the store. Without thinking, he kicks the man in the head. The thief crumples to the ground, gun skittering across the ground. Soonyoung watches as Minghao shakes off the frozen fear and levitates the gun over to his side of the shop. 

The police don't believe anyone in the shop when they give their report. 

“And then the blonde one flew! He was actually flying!” the cashier shouts, jabbing a finger towards where Soonyoung and Minghao stand. The officer gives them a once over and raises an eyebrow. Minghao shrugs innocently. 

“Yes, ma’am. That's all we need from you, thank you for your time,” the officer says, trying hard not to sigh. 

The woman grabs his wrist. “Wait! I'm not finished! The other one moved the gun somehow, I don't know-” 

“ _Thank you_ , ma’am.” 

!¡

Minghao and Soonyoung giggle all the way home, bags of retrieved groceries in hand. 

“Oh my god! That was amazing! You just, like, kicked him in the head, and then he fell!” Minghao wheezes, whispering furiously in Soonyoung’s ear. 

Soonyoung shakes his head wildly. “No, the way you picked up the gun, that was so fucking cool.” 

“I’d kiss you right now except I don't think that woman over there would like it.” 

“We would make bomb ass superheroes. Also, you should kiss me anyways. She might be into it.” 

“Holy fuck, we _would_ make bomb ass superheroes. Who’s gonna be the sidekick?” 

“Who cares? We can both be the superhero. I mean, it's not like we don't switch, and I think sidekicks are all bottoms, so-” 

Minghao laughs and shuts him up with a kiss, lady glaring from the corner be damned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Junhui did in fact find the mutation on the seventh chromosome and went on to help develop an evolving cure for the flu  
> 2\. Soonyoung didn't do well on his research project but he still got his microbiology degree. He later went back to school to get a masters in education and became a high school teacher. He still fights crime in his spare time  
> 3\. Minghao stays at home and draws superhero comics. He also fights crime in his spare time  
> 4\. They're still dating. They fight crime in their spare time ~together~  
> 5\. Jisoo and Jeonghan met them when they both tried to capture the same criminal. He got away because they were so busy bickering.  
> 6\. Junhui and Wonwoo are happily married with 3 cats. They never fight because Junhui always knows when Wonwoo is upset.  
> 7\. One time the Chinese government tried to come and get their missing subjects and Soonyoung and Minghao kicked their ass you guys.


	30. television (junhui/soonyoung/minghao)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> quick request from frozen_cantaloupe (66 days ago omgf I love being the worst in the world): a junhui/minghao/soonyoung ot3 fic!
> 
> i know this won't be everyone's cup of tea so just treat it like another chapter of a pairing you don't like: don't read it (: 
> 
> however, I adore ot3s so I had fun writing this (very short) piece and I hope you all enjoy reading it!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's been a while but i'm back!! hopefully i'll get this done before college starts and i begin drowning again. but i am officially done with school for the year.
> 
> anyways, onto the fic. im sorry it's so short, it was mainly just to kickstart my inspiration on this collection again. i'm working on a 10k junhui/soonyoung fic and omg i've been working on it for a month. but i'm almost done with that too. 
> 
> ANYWAYS.

The dorm was mostly empty, save for Seungkwan snoring away peacefully in the back, and Junhui, Soonyoung, and Minghao. The three boys sat together on the couch, massive comforter covering their laps and popcorn threatening to spill from where it rested precariously on their knees. 

“You chose last time,” Minghao said, grabbing for the remote. “Let me pick.” 

Junhui held it high above his head, making his boyfriend stretch to try and reach for it. “Hao, I cannot miss the new episode of Game of Thrones. It's one hour. Please.” 

Soonyoung clicked his tongue and yanked the remote from Junhui’s grip. “If you wanted to watch it tonight, you shouldn't have skipped out on Monday’s date night. Now you have to settle for what Minghao and I want to watch.” 

“I have to know if he died! This is so important!”

“I see how it is, hyung,” the youngest said, leaning past Junhui to look at Soonyoung. “Game of Thrones is more important to Junnie-hyung than his boyfriends.” 

“Wait-” 

“Makes sense,” Soonyoung said, sighing dramatically. “At least we know where his priorities lie.” 

Junhui frowned, knowing when he was being ganged up on. “Alright, alright. What do you want to watch?” 

Soonyoung and Minghao looked at each other in wide-eyes surprise. “We don't… actually know. I thought Soonyoung was going to fall for your puppy dog eyes and we’d end up watching it with you, but you didn't even break them out this time,” Minghao admitted. Junhui’s jaw dropped. 

“Wait, no, I can still-” 

“Too late,” Soonyoung snapped, holding the remote tightly against his chest. “And Minghao let out the secret. Your sad baby expression will never work on me again. Ha!” 

Junhui sank down under the covers, seemingly giving in to the will of his boyfriends. Soonyoung smiled smugly and was clicking through the channels when he suddenly let out a shriek and jolted off the couch. His bowl of popcorn flew off his knee and landed on the floor, scattering kernels everywhere. Minghao blew his breath out of his nose. Now they have to clean this shit up. 

“Junhui, knock it-” Soonyoung’s protest dissolved into an unholy squeal as Junhui’s fingers continued their assault. 

“He's going to pee his pants again if you're not careful, ge,” Minghao warned, mildly. 

Soonyoung screamed again. “Don't talk about it!” 

Junhui climbed out of the covers and straddled the blonde’s lap, tickling his sides without hesitation. Soonyoung's legs kicked out wildly, and Minghao moved his own bowl to the end table to keep it safe. “Give me the remote, Soonyoungie, and this can be all over.” 

“Never, villain!” 

Seungkwan, who had been woken up by the piercing screams, poked his head into the room from the hallway. He took one look at the mess, at the two boys either fucking or wrestling on the couch, and at Minghao, who waved happily at him as if none of this was happening right beside him, and went back to bed. 

“Yes!” Junhui shouted, waving the remote victoriously above his head. “Game of Thrones it is!” His celebration only lasted a few seconds, because as soon as Soonyoung recovered, he tackled him to the ground. Minghao rolled his eyes and grabbed his laptop from the coffee table. He watched them fight for control of the television with little interest as he waited for Netflix to boot up. 

“We could finish the Great Food Truck Race,” he suggested, shouting to be heard over the argument of his actually-children boyfriends. “Or we could start the new season of American Horror Story. Cast your vote.” 

“Food trucks!” they yelled, scrambling to right themselves. Junhui climbed off of Soonyoung and Soonyoung released his grip on Junhui’s left calf. 

“I hope the Korean team wins,” Soonyoung continued, clambering over the mess of popcorn, now scattered even more hopelessly on the floor, onto the couch. He tucked himself against Minghao’s side. 

Junhui frowned at him. “Well, I want the other team to win.” 

“You’re just mad because I was going to get the remote.” 

“Will you two shut up?” 

“Okay, okay. If Seoul Sausage wins, you have to... kiss me in the mornings even with my morning breath for a month,” Soonyoung whispered, cackling at the look of horror on Junhui’s face. “But if the other teams wins, I won’t even ask you to look at me until I brush my teeth.” 

“Deal.” 

Minghao shook his head, but cuddled in closer. They wouldn’t be the boys he fell in love with if they weren’t complete idiots. 

Soonyoung took great pleasure in making Junhui kiss him every morning for the next month, and even though he’d be caught dead before he admitted it, Junhui liked making Soonyoung happy. Minghao simply gave them both pecks before calling them ridiculous. And they would look at each other before chasing him out of the room and giving him kisses all over his face, because they might be ridiculous, but they were his.


	31. sunflower (minghao/jeonghan)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> otpprompts: imagine person A casually calling B sweetie or hon or something for the first time and B just being like O.O
> 
> [](http://imgur.com/uB5Ko3J)  
> enough said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's been a while lmao i have a lot of fics started but none of them done :( sorry for the delay, i would say i've been busy but i graduated a week ago so i have no excuse, just a rude and awful muse. 
> 
> i researched this prompt for everything from how to play pokemon to traditional chinese meals but i didn’t give a FUCK about minghao’s favorite food apparently so let’s just pretend that it’s not potato soup and pork bone, it’s fried mashi ok thank you for listening (:

There’s almost never enough room in interviews. A row of them have to stand, or they have to crowd in together as close as possible. No one really plans for the outlier groups with members in the double digits. Minghao stands still, jostled around as his members push past him into the studio space. He almost always waits until everyone else is sitting; he’s small, he can usually find a place to squish into. Except in this interview, they’ve run out of both chairs and standing space. He curses SBS. 

“Minghao-yah, sunflower, come over here,” Jeonghan calls, patting his lap. “You can sit here.” 

He’s spent enough time in Jeonghan’s presence to know that a nickname is nothing special. He staunchly ignores the sudden acrobatics his stomach is performing and picks his way around the members to his hyung’s seat. Jeonghan’s baby, Jeonghan’s idiot, his is no different. Jeonghan’s sunflower. He hears Junhui make a meaningful noise in his throat from behind them as he settles onto Jeonghan’s thighs; he ignores that too. 

The host makes the obvious jokes about groups too large for their own good, and having to share seats. Jeonghan smiles radiantly and laughs. Minghao shifts a bit awkwardly and forces the best approximation of an amused expression that he can. If he leaps off Jeonghan’s lap a bit too quickly when it’s over, if he refuses to look anyone in the eye until they get back to the dorm, if he locks himself in the bathroom for nearly an hour - no one says anything. 

He’s pulled out of his self-reflection and subsequent hatred of his own life by rapid knocking on the bathroom door. “Shǎguā,” Junhui says, with more fondness than actual bite, voice muffled through the door. “Come out of there, Wonwoo has been dancing around for nearly 45 minutes waiting for you to get over your little lovesick dilemma.” 

“Shut the fuck up, hyung, someone will hear you,” he hisses in reply, jerking open the door a fraction of an inch. 

“Who?” Junhui snorts. “Everyone else went out to eat. It’s just us, plus Wonwoo since he felt bad about leaving me here alone to deal with your prepubescent avoidance of your feelings. And who is he going to tell?” 

Minghao sighs and steps out of the bathroom. “Oh, thank God,” Wonwoo says, rushing past him and slamming the door. “Not that I don’t love you, Minghao-yah, it’s just-” 

“That’s an overshare that can be prevented by not talking anymore,” Junhui tells his boyfriend mildly. 

“I’m not avoiding my feelings. I’m trying to get rid of them.” 

“Oh. Well, that isn’t any better.” The older boy waves a hand toward the bathroom door. “He tried to do that too, fucking dumbass spent eight months telling anyone who would listen how much he didn’t want to knock the bottom out of this.” 

With horror and disgust written across his face, Minghao snapped, “Are you trying to help me or trying to make me throw up?” 

It isn’t that he wants to ignore his feelings, or make them disappear. He’d love for them to have a very fruitful place in his life. Unfortunately, the fact that Jeonghan is very much an uninterested party in Minghao’s love life left said feelings as nothing more than a nuisance and a bit of, well, an embarrassment. When you spend as much time together as an idol group does, especially one of so many boys in such a small space, things tend to come out. And he’s not really into the idea of everyone finding out how much he wants to run his hands through Jeonghan’s hair and be called sunflower in a particularly un-platonic manner. 

“If _knock the bottom out of this_ is a euphemism for sex, we’re breaking up right now,” Wonwoo says, nose crinkled as he turns the bathroom light off and comes into the hallway. Junhui blinks at him, expression serene.

“Of course it isn’t,” he says innocently. Minghao’s never heard such a filthy lie in all his life. Wonwoo seems to agree, because his nose doesn’t uncrinkle, but he does roll his eyes in exasperated fondness and let it go. “Seriously, Ming, the worst thing that happens is he says no, it gets awkward for four to six months, and then you both move on.”

He knows Junhui is trying to help, but Minghao can’t help but be the tiniest bit irritated by his oversimplification of the dilemma. Sure, Junhui is correct in theory, but his confession and subsequent rejection would paint every interaction he has with Jeonghan from then on. Fanservice would become awkward and look like a ploy to get close to him. Sitting next to him in the van or on a flight looks like he’s forcing his presence on him. No more easy smiles, no more casual gestures like high fives, no more sunflower. 

“I’ll just stick with willing my little gay feelings away through the force of my sheer hatred of the alternative, thanks.” 

Junhui shrugs, but his eyes convey his sympathy. Minghao sticks his tongue out at him, adjusts his baseball cap so it sits just so on his bangs, and doesn’t feel anything for Yoon Jeonghan. 

+

Except he definitely, definitely does. Nine of the ten missing members pile through the door a couple hours later, filling up the small dorm to the point of suffocation with their exuberant conversation and the sheer size of their puffy winter wear. It’s easy to take an empty house for granted before it’s filled back to the brim. Minghao wordlessly sits up from his sprawling position on the couch and shifts all the way to the left, just before Seungkwan and Mingyu fling themselves onto the cushions next to him. Slowly, the members slot themselves back in around Minghao, all except one. He half-heartedly swipes his pointer finger across the screen, mutilating innocent fruit without focus. The majority of his attention is focused on the door, waiting for Jeonghan to walk in. 

“Wait, where’s Jeonghan-hyung?” Wonwoo says, head poking up from the circle of boys bent over their Pokémon cards. “He was going to battle us this time; he’s got the sickest Raindance deck.” Sometimes Minghao can’t believe Junhui is dating Wonwoo, but then he remembers something that his best friend has done, like collect Super Junior-M photocards, and he isn’t confused anymore. 

“He stopped to pick something up,” Seungcheol replies, waving a hand nonchalantly without looking up from the Rihanna music video playing on his phone. “I don’t know, he just said he’d be right behind us.” 

“That was like… 45 minutes ago, though,” Wonwoo shoots back with a frown. “What could be taking so long?”

Minghao stands up, ready to volunteer to go try and find him, when someone knocks loudly on the front door. Jeonghan stands behind it, arms full of plastic bags. He grins sheepishly at Minghao, who steps aside to let him in. “I picked up food for you guys since I didn’t know if we even have anything here to eat.” He carefully sets the bags on the counters and begins pulling out styrofoam container after styrofoam container. 

“Damn, there’s only three of them,” Hansol says, eyeing the box of spinach noodles intently. Junhui elbows him with a fierce glare when he notices. 

Jeonghan shrugs. “I just wanted to make sure they got enough. It’ll make good leftovers, and then, and only then, can you eat these spinach noodles, Chwe Hansol, do you understand me.” 

“Yes, hyung,” he says with a dejected sigh. 

Seungcheol frowns as he looks inside all the take-away containers. Dumplings, fried rice, a container filled to the brim with only cold vegetables, sweet and sour eggplant, and on the very end sits a box of fried mashi. Minghao’s heart sings when he spots it. “Where did you even go? We didn’t go to a Chinese place.” 

“I went to the restaurant three blocks over. It took a while because they were a little busy tonight.” Jeonghan reaches up to pull down three plates, passing one to Junhui who stands eagerly at his shoulder like a puppy. “Are you feeling better, Minghao-yah?” 

Minghao freezes in his approach of the mashi. “Ah, yes, hyung, thanks. I think I was just a little, um, overheated from the interview.” Jeonghan smiles brilliantly at him and holds out a plate. He takes it, willing every blood cell in his body not to rush to his cheeks. 

“Good. I wouldn’t want my sunflower to be sick!” Really, fuck his life. Minghao tries to smile back, but it’s stiff and he turns away before letting it drop off his face. 

“No, wait, why did you go to the Chinese restaurant? The BBQ place would have been fine, and you put yourself in a situation where you were alone for a long time,” Seungcheol says, hands firmly on his hips. If his intention is to make Jeonghan apologetic or regretful, it fails before it’s even out of the gate. Jeonghan rolls his eyes and pushes past him, handing a plate full of food off to Wonwoo, who takes it with a mumbled thank you as he surveys the cards laid out on the table. 

“I went because Junhui felt homesick the other day, and they serve traditional Chinese food there, and most of all they have fried mashi, and Minghao was feeling shitty, and it’s Minghao’s favorite. So sorry for wanting to do something nice for my members. Next time I’ll just not do that.” 

Minghao’s heart skips a beat, then another. He wonders vaguely if the fans will mourn him if he has an incredibly premature heart attack. Jeonghan knows his favorite food, which almost no one else has ever noticed. It’s not something that’s ever come up in an interview, and they don’t eat real Chinese food for him to point it out. It’s just that, when they do go to the place three blocks down, he maybe hogs the mashi to himself a little more than anything else. He’s not even sure Junhui knows what his favorite food is, if he could answer when pressed. If Jeonghan’s noticed that, Minghao muses, what else does he know? 

+

He tries his best not to read into it. It’s just Jeonghan being a good hyung, keeping track of his dongsaengs and trying to make them happy. But time and time again, he can’t write off his actions. 

Breaking down the meaning of unfamiliar words from movies in Minghao’s ear when Junhui isn’t around. Beaming as he holds out the Chinese translation of the new volume of the manga Minghao’s mentioned missing maybe once, because he “happened” to be walking past a bookstore. Waking up in the dead of night when he hears Minghao sick over the toilet, shaking Junhui awake to keep him company as he makes a run to the convenience store because they’re out of pain medicine. Running his fingers idly through Minghao’s hair anytime they’re in the van. Asking him if he’s saying things right in Chinese, things like darling and love. And most of all, what really keeps Minghao awake at night wondering, is the fucking _nickname_. 

_Sunflower, come look at this video, oh my god, this cat is so funny. Minghao-yah, sunflower, come help me with this. Oh, sunflower, I was about to go to the store, wanna come with?_

It drives Minghao _insane._

“Hyung, why, out of all words,” he finally says, hands filled with plastic grocery bags, “did you choose sunflower to call me?” 

Jeonghan peers at him out of the corner of his eye and hums thoughtfully before answering. “You’re so bright and happy, and it’s easy to make you smile. Plus, you’re just as cute.” He opens his mouth to say more just as Minghao’s phone begins blasting a Henry song. Minghao remains calm as he begins to run through a list of way to mutilate Junhui’s body and the best places to hide his remains. Before he can shift the load in his hands to reach his cell phone, Jeonghan slips his free hand into the back pocket of Minghao’s jeans and pulls it out, answering it with a cheery hello. 

“We’re on the way back from the store, we’re only going to be a few more minutes,” he says after a pause, clearly oblivious to the way Minghao’s stomach is doing complex yoga in his abdomen. He can’t just fucking.. put his hand back there and it be okay. Christ. “Yeah, wait, maybe… hey, did we buy the jelly snacks?” He rustles through his bags before frowning and shaking his head. Jeonghan whines. “No, we forgot. Do you really need them that badly?”

If Minghao had been on the phone, the expletives would have showered upon him without end. He knows it’s only out of respect for the hyung status Jeonghan holds that Junhui is showing any restraint. “He’s gonna need them that badly,” Minghao says, sighing heavily and letting his shoulders slump. “We gotta go back.” 

Jeonghan rolls his eyes as he hangs up on a panicked Junhui and slips Minghao’s phone back where it belongs. “Ah, my sunflower is so silly. The little shop right outside the dorm sells gummies, it’ll be fine. He’ll live with the off brand for a night.” 

Minghao cocks an eyebrow, because he knows how to be cool under duress, despite his brain screaming _his hand! near our ass!_ “Excuse me, hyung, but I think I heard you say ‘my sunflower’. I don’t remember agreeing to this.” Not that he wouldn’t, but still. It’s the principle. 

“Oh, really? I think the way you say my name in your sleep says otherwise.” And, oh my fucking _God,_ he’s going to die right now. Right here. He’ll melt into a little Chinese puddle, and the sidewalk will be forever stained with his dissolved innards and the intense weight of his shame. 

He sniffs in disdain, or tries to, although it really comes off as more of a sad sniffle. “I don’t talk in my sleep.” 

“Are you trying to say you don’t want to be my sunflower? Because even if you don’t talk in your sleep, which you definitely do, but it’s super cute so it’s okay, I would be able to tell. I’m not an idiot, Minghao-yah.” Jeonghan stops walking and grabs Minghao’s wrist as he tries to barrel past. “Come here.” 

“I’m sorry, hyung, I’m trying not to like you, but it’s really hard, but I’ll try harder! Don’t worry, I won’t bother you. I understand that you don’t feel the same.” Mingao whispers, working past the lump in his throat. 

Jeonghan makes a noise of… annoyance? frustration? “Sunflower, if we weren’t standing in a public place where there’s a chance of literally anyone with a camera catching us, I’d kiss the shit out of your face right now.” 

Minghao freezes, wrist still in Jeonghan’s grip, eyes stinging. “You’d… do what now?” 

“I think you heard me,” is the reply he gets. He begins calculating how quickly they can make it to the dorm and how much money is in the pool the member’s definitely have. 

“You better have waited this long to tell me just so that you could win a bet,” Minghao breathes lowly, eyes boring furiously into Jeonghan’s. The older man’s mouth stretches into a bright grin. 

“We are officially 250,000 won richer.” 

“Fuck. Okay, good, I actually don’t care about the money, we gotta get to the dorms like, an hour ago, this needs to happen as soon as possible, fuck Junhui-hyung’s jellies,” Minghao rambles, tugging Jeonghan along with his wrist as he begins to speed walk down the sidewalk. Jeonghan just laughs.

+

“Did you get my candy?” Junhui asks eagerly as soon as the door opens, but quickly backs away when he sees the mussed appearance of both of them. He groans angrily. “The fucking elevator? You couldn’t have waited until you actually got inside to make out?” 

A loud noise resounds from the kitchen as Seungkwan kicks the garbage can. “Shit! One more day and I would have won,” he snaps. 

“Fuck you and fuck your jellies,” Minghao says cheerfully, setting the groceries on the couch. “Put these away, we’re busy.” 

Wonwoo pats Junhui on the back consolingly. “You should have worked at it harder. Your push in the right direction came off as friendly advice.” Junhui, angry about losing and angry about his jellies, simply pouts. 

Minghao closes the door to the small bedroom and turns around, just in time to see Jeonghan come forward to press him against it. He giggles breathlessly, but it’s swallowed by Jeonghan’s mouth as they kiss, softly. 

Jisoo winces at the sounds coming out of the room as he sneaks up, taping a sign to the door. _Do Not Disturb, Bet Losing Occurring._

+

Epilogue

“So… can we bet on when Soonyoung-hyung will get his shit together or what,” Mingyu whispers, tapping the table with his cards. “Jihoonie-hyung won’t do anything, so it’s gotta be him.” 

Minghao smirks. He’s gonna win this for sure, considering he’s already dealt with this. He’s tired of his unit avoiding feelings and shit; he took care of those idiots right off the bat. “I’m gonna say 17,000 won that Jihoon confesses within the next three days.” The boys around the table make appropriately shocked noises. He cooly lays down an energy card on his Krookodile. 

Jeonghan writes his bet down diligently on the legal pad he pulled out of nowhere, chin resting on Minghao’s shoulder. “I’ll see that bet and raise 30,000 won that we catch them making out in the studio in that same time period. Anyone else?” 

The members call out bets for anywhere from three weeks to six months. Minghao smirks. He’s about to make another 150,000 won without breaking a sweat. Jeonghan presses a kiss to his cheek, silently congratulating him. Minghao smiles softly and inflicts 50 damage on Hansol’s Celebi. 

He’s an all-around winner, honestly.


	32. hell (wonwoo/minghao)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt from tumblr: a lonely person sells their soul to Satan to be their friend and Satan just rolls with it until he realizes at the time of their death that he genuinely likes them. since he can't go back on the contract he brings them to hell and puts them in a high position of power. demons hardened by millenia of torture now have to answer to a shy, self-conscious, quiet, depressed, lonely person who has unconsciously become satan’s #1
> 
> minghao/wonwoo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i’m so sorry for the delay, nearly two months. i’m sorry that this isn’t a requested prompt or a requested pairing. i’m sorry that i can’t promise more frequent updates because honestly my life is about to get more, not less, busy than it has been these last couple of months, added to the fact that i’ve not been able to write because 1) my computer has a horrible virus i’ve yet to diagnose and 2) my writer’s block has been /intense/. so yeah, i’m seriously so so so sorry about all of the above, and i hope you enjoy this chapter and this very rare pair. 
> 
> since I seem to have forgotten that this collection is to write to every pairing, here is a pairing to remind me. 
> 
> plus lately i’ve been having massive wonwoo and minghao feelios and it’s really starting to get ugly. 
> 
> warnings: discussion of religion and the Christian afterlife in a light/slightly mocking manner, homophobic slurs, alcohol, depiction of mental illness (manic depression), some callous disregard for human life, impermanent semi-graphic character death. (i swear this is a mostly happy chapter. i sweAR)

Wonwoo hisses in annoyance as he feels the all too familiar tug in the back of his mind, signaling that someone is trying to make a deal. With a frown, he kicks over the soul who was speaking at his feet, watching as he tumbles down the steps to the throne. It's a testament to how often he does it that no one even glances up from their tasks. 

He doesn't even have a place to put another useless soul, and he's getting real tired of people trading eternal damnation just for one petty murder. Wonwoo is going to be so pissed if it's another petty murder. 

It isn't another petty murder. 

He snaps his fingers and suddenly he's in a bedroom in the suburbs of some Chinese city; he's vague on the details. But there's a boy in the room, sitting tensely on the edge of his twin mattress. Next to him lies a small paring knife and a candle, along with the empty wrapper of a bandaid. The walls are plain white and plastered in charcoal drawings, ballpoint pen doodles on napkins, canvases that are smudged or unfinished but still hung with care. Wonwoo takes them all in for a long moment before turning to face the boy. 

“I hope you meant to summon me,” he begins, “because if you didn't, this is probably not going to end well.” The boy nods, mute. Wonwoo sighs heavily, picking up his hands and slapping them back down against his black jeans. “Okay, then. What's your name?” 

The boy opens his mouth, but the only sound that comes out is too soft for even Wonwoo to hear. “What?” 

“Minghao,” the boy chokes out. “Xu Minghao.” 

“What is it, Xu Minghao, that you could need so badly that you have to sell your soul to get it?” The boy looks down at his restless fingers, twining and untwining in his lap. Wonwoo notices his hair is a sandy blond color and smirks. It's cute. “Well?”

“I just want a friend,” Minghao whispers. “I'm not good enough for anyone else to like me.” 

Wonwoo has been summoned for many things. He's been ruler of the underworld for millennia longer than Minghao has been alive, and people have sold their soul for anything from sex to revenge to power. But no one in the history of time has ever asked for Satan to be their friend. He opens his mouth to reply, but the words fail him. 

“Pretty pathetic, huh? I, uh.” Minghao shoots a quick and discreet glance at an innocuous bottle of pills sitting on his nightstand, but Wonwoo doesn't miss it. “It's no big deal. I didn't think I'd get turned down by Satan of all people, but I shouldn't be surprised.” The self-deprecating laugh that follows his words has Wonwoo wincing, to his own surprise and mild horror. 

“No. It's a deal, if you're sure.” Usually, there's a long drawn out negotiation of terms and conditions before he agrees to anything, but something about Minghao has him uncaring of what the deal encompasses. “Are you positive this is what you want?” 

“I'm gay, I don't believe in God, although I probably should now, and I've had at least three bowlcuts during my lifetime. I'm already going to hell.” Wonwoo snorts. 

“You know, a lot of people are surprised when I tell them that bowlcuts are a sin. They really are so shocked when they get to hell, all because they didn't apologize for their haircut.” Minghao cracks a smile, and Wonwoo pats himself on the back. “Let's get this thing done.” 

His eyelids flutter shut and he lights Minghao’s candle again with a flick of his fingers. The incantation slips out of his mouth without even a thought on his part. Minghao listens, hands clasped tightly, sitting cross legged on his dark bedspread. Wonwoo opens his eyes and meets his gaze. “Repeat after me. I, Xu Minghao.” 

“I, Xu Minghao.” 

“Pledge my soul to Satan in return for friendship, whatever that entails.” 

“Pledge my soul to Satan in return for friendship, whatever that entails.” Minghao is almost… giggling? His right hand is held in the air for no reason and the other is covering his mouth to hide his inappropriate smile. 

Another first: someone enjoying dealing their soul away for eternity in hell. 

Wonwoo continues, “At the time of my death, I understand that I will spend the rest of time in Hell, in servitude for Satan.” 

Minghao repeats it, the damning phrase doing nothing to damper his amusement. 

“So help me God.” 

“So help me God. Isn't that a little bit sacrilegious?” Minghao says, and Wonwoo feels the slightest bit of irritation. He's literally Satan, for hell’s sake. This isn't a _joking matter_. What happened to the boy who couldn’t even look up from the floor when he first got there?

“You don’t seem to be taking this very seriously.” 

Minghao’s thin shoulders shrug minutely. “I guess when I summoned Satan I didn’t expect to be sworn in like I’m joining Boy Scouts, or something.” Wonwoo’s frown deepens. 

“That’s only the tiniest bit insulting,” he scoffs. 

“Yeah, you’re right. I’m sure the Boy Scouts would be horrified to learn their rituals are similar to the Devil’s. The whole point of them is to keep kids as far away from hell as they can.” 

Wonwoo eyes him up and down, reevaluating. Minghao isn’t pathetic or sad, he’s funny and quick and easily amused. But for some reason he needed Satan to be his friend. “You’re a bit of a prat, you know that?”

As quickly as it appeared, Minghao’s smile falls off of his face. His cheeks flush with bright red and he averts his eyes again, appearing much more like he had earlier. “Sorry, I’m not very good at joking around.” 

Before Wonwoo can say anything - he’s never apologized to someone, or even felt the need to, but Minghao’s eyes make him want to fix things, tell him that no, he’s amazing and funny - someone begins screaming from the front of the house. “Where is that piece of shit?” 

Minghao’s face blanches and he curls into himself, knees tucked up to his chest. The motion is so smooth that Wonwoo knows it’s not the first time he’s protected himself like this, not the first time he’s had to deal with whatever is coming. It’s the actions of someone who knows what position will prevent the most damage. Wonwoo feels something akin to protectiveness rise up in his chest. He casually steps to stand in front of the bed just as the door to the room slams open loudly. A man staggers forward a step before stopping dead. “Who the fuck are you? You a fag too?” he slurs, gripping the doorframe. “Huh, Minghao? You let him fuck you?” Minghao stays silent, still wrapped up. Wonwoo makes a disinterested noise and flicks his fingers. 

Minghao’s father erupts into flames. 

Wonwoo waits for Minghao to scream, or tell him to stop. But when he turns, Minghao is simply staring, listening to the pathetic, garbled whimperings of his father burning to death, and he doesn’t stop until the man is reduced to nothing more than a pile of ash staining the carpet. His gaze flickers up to meet Wonwoo’s intense one, and Wonwoo is pleasantly surprised when Minghao blushes. 

“Thank you,” he says quietly, looking back at the remnants of his abuser. “I- I don’t know how I’m going to explain this to anyone, but thank you.” 

There’s a lot of emotion and meaning packed into Minghao’s gratitude that Wonwoo is not equipped to nor cares to deal with. With another wave of his hand, he makes the ashes disappear. “A violent alcoholic, he went out to the bar one night, probably pissed someone off. He made a wrong turn into an alley and was never heard from again. He left behind his teenage son, a real tragedy.” Minghao doesn’t lift his eyes, but gives a nod. After a beat of silence, Wonwoo sighs. “Alright, then, I have other things to do. I suppose you know how to call me, yes?” 

Minghao winces. “I have to slice my thumb every single time I want to see you? Don’t you have, I don’t know, a cell phone?” He suddenly grins and looks up. “A hell phone?” Wonwoo rolls his eyes to the back of his head. 

“You’re doing a very good job of making me reconsider this deal,” he moans, but he’s laughing. “Alright, yes, just text 72826. I’m leaving now, seriously.” 

“Your number spells out SATAN? Are you kidding me?” 

“Goodbye,” Wonwoo says, and flashes out of the room the way he appeared, the sound of Minghao’s dwindling giggles in his ear. 

\---

The more time Wonwoo spends with Minghao, the less he understands. 

He finds Minghao to be charming, quick with a smile and a polite word for a cashier or a child. He thinks he’s funny and smart, witty to the point of near genius at his best, and to top it all off, he’s cute. Wonwoo understands all of this. What he doesn’t understand is why Minghao is so constantly lonely.

They’re sitting in a small coffee shop, one that budding artist Minghao appreciates for its indie, loose vibe and that Wonwoo appreciates for its lack of other human beings. The barista has been eyeing them nervously for the past hour, most likely due to the fact that Wonwoo whispered some very choice things about what he would do if their order wasn’t hurried along. (Minghao had absentmindedly smacked his arm as he continued reading some article on his phone, and Wonwoo had been shocked into silence. No one had ever casually touched him before, let alone done anything close to hitting him.) The bell over the door jingles as someone walked in, causing Wonwoo to look up, but Minghao continues on in his explanation of b-boying. The teenager always talks like this, he had discovered, until he’s interrupted or he becomes self-conscious when he realizes he’s been rambling. 

“Xu!” Minghao stops mid-sentence when one of the new customers calls his name. “What are you doing here?” the boy continues, amid a spatter of giggles and discreetly pointed fingers from his friends. Wonwoo’s hackles immediately rise. Minghao turns slightly and raises his paper cup towards him in answer, eyes barely lifting to meet his gaze. 

One of the girls breaks out from the group and joins the boy in approaching the table, eyeing Wonwoo with a smile and tossing her hair in what he assumes to be a pathetic attempt to impress him. Being gay isn’t labeled a sin for nothing, but her weak flirtation amuses him if nothing else. “Yeah, Minghao, what’s the school crybaby doing in our coffee shop?” 

Wonwoo suddenly understands. And he’s no longer amused. 

He turns to face her directly, eyes nearly literally on fire. She shrinks back immediately, half-hiding behind the boy, who looks as if he had someone to take cover behind as well. “Your coffee shop?” he drawls, tapping his fingers harshly against the table. With any other expression to accompany the gesture, it’d look casual, but the murder written across his face identifies it as a threat. “Do you own it?” 

The teenagers shake their heads vigorously, stumbling over each other to back away into the safety of the group. It’s almost laughable how paralyzed the others are, all standing close together in a rapidly diminishing cloud of misplaced superiority. Wonwoo lazily reaches out and snags the boy’s wrist, reeling him back in. Before he can say anything, or rip out someone’s throat, which is what he wants to do, Minghao reaches across the table and rests his hand over Wonwoo’s. His fingers still and his grip goes slack. Now free, the boy rips his wrist away and sprints out of the shop, with his group of lackeys close behind. 

“They aren’t worth it,” Minghao says, but what Wonwoo hears is _I’m not worth it._

“I would have killed them all, if you had asked me to,” he says, uncaring of the presence of the barista, who’s speaking rapidly into the phone, most likely to the police. 

Minghao gives him a smile, a shadow of his usual bright grin. “I know, and I appreciate it.” 

Wonwoo scratches the back of his neck, wondering when the king of Hell became so awkward. “If you, you know, want to talk about it, or something-” 

“I appreciate that too.” 

-

There is no buildup, no warning signs, nothing to signify that morning to Minghao that today is it. One second he’s there, crossing the street, reacting slowly to the loud blaring sound of someone pressing on their horn, and the next, he’s not. Wonwoo blinks in surprise from his spot on the other side of traffic where he’s waiting for someone who’s now splattered across the street and on the front bumper and wheels of a semi-truck. A woman screams behind him, but the sound barely registers in his ears, more like the annoying buzz of a fly than a horrified shriek. He takes a calm step into the street and drops to his knees in front of what used to be Minghao. 

“Please stand back, sir,” someone tries to say, and Wonwoo is too numb to care about appearances - he waves his hand and the police officer turns on his heel and walks away. His fingers reach out on their own accord, lightly running over the still-wet blood on the road. 

He’s not sure when he became so emotional, so attached. Wonwoo’s whole existence is based around the impermanence of human life, and he more than anyone knew the short span of time humans had. Why Minghao’s death came as a shock, he had no idea. 

Or maybe he did. 

He had grown fond of the teen, looking forward to spending time with him even if he did despise other people, and coffee, and the subway, and nearly every aspect of human life. Minghao made it bearable, at the very least. He is surprised because he had expected Minghao to live a long, busy life in which he would take less and less part until he died of old age and they met again in Hell. 

When he looks up, he’s again surprised when he realizes he had unconsciously frozen time around him. With a weary sigh, he flicks his bloodstained fingers and the busy street bursts into motion again as he slips away into the shadows. 

Mingyu is panicked when Wonwoo arrives back at his domain, which Wonwoo only knows because the demon is trying his best to look calm. “Sir, someone is asking for you, but he’s using your human name, I don’t-” 

“Take me to him,” Wonwoo says, choosing to avoid explaining the existence of Minghao, the human boy who uses the most familiar name Wonwoo has ever had. Mingyu leads him down a cavernous, dark hallway to the intake lobby. The brighter light hits Wonwoo’s eyes as they enter and he blinks rapidly. He’s been to intake, once, maybe twice in all his years as reigning deity of Hell; he had forgotten that they used real lightbulbs here. There, at the desk, stands Minghao, signing off on some form or another, something to say that he believes he deserves to be in Hell probably. They don’t get many people who sign that one. The red stamp on his hand blares his destination - he must have been rushed through Purgatory. 

“Xu Minghao,” he drawls, and Minghao’s head shoots up from the paperwork. Wonwoo’s lips involuntarily spread into a smile as the boy gave him a grin and a peppy wave. “Welcome to Hell.” 

Minghao looks around pointedly at the admittedly human-esque layout of the office. “Very professional and organized of you, Wonwoo. I’m surprised, honestly.” 

“The rest of Hell is pretty medieval,” Mingyu snorts, “just how he likes it. I made him update the administrative side of it - no one could stand writing with feathers anymore.” Wonwoo glared at his right hand man, but Minghao was laughing. 

“Nice. I’m Minghao, ah, I signed a contract to be here. Plus, I’m gay. So this was inevitable.” 

Mingyu nods, as if he understands. “That’s cool, we get a lot of those.” He gives Minghao a once-over, “Usually they’re not so young, though.” 

Wonwoo coughs loudly, determined not to let it slip that Minghao is here because he’s friends with Satan. “So, now that you’ve died, with such little grace, I might add, what should we do with you?” 

Minghao shifts uncomfortably, frowning down at the floor. “Probably somewhere I can’t make a mess,” he says, and Wonwoo watches as all the confidence slips from Minghao’s countenance. From Mingyu’s wrinkled brow, he assumes his aide sees the same. “I can’t even die well,” he continues, followed by what could be a laugh but is more of a self-deprecating cough. 

A thought hits Mingyu, and he leans up to whisper in Wonwoo’s ear. “Soonyoung just went up for probation in purgatory.” His eyes widen as he realizes what Mingyu means. 

“Minghao, have you ever thought about joining the army?” 

-

Jihoon bends over laughing when Wonwoo presents Minghao to him as the new general of Hell’s army. “He’s not even 20 yet, and you’re making him general? With all due respect, Sir, this is ridiculous.” Minghao nods in unconscious agreement. 

“Jihoon.” And the General of the Army sobers immediately. After receiving a sharp salute, Wonwoo runs his hand gently down the back of Minghao’s head and disappears into the air, leaving Minghao to stand awkwardly and somewhat shamefully in front of the head of an army. 

“I know I’m not experienced, I really don’t belong here but-” 

Jihoon cuts him off with a wave of his hand. “If this is what Satan wants, then so be it. Come with me, we’ll get you set up with your platoons.” 

The other generals take to Minghao quickly, Junhui especially. The general he replaced, Soonyoung, reappears with little fanfare and takes the open position of Minghao’s right hand; Jihoon explains that Soonyoung is a favorite of an angel who gets him Purgatory probation fairly often in hopes he’ll make it to Heaven, but the blonde always ends up back in Hell. Jihoon smirks filthily at this and Minghao doesn’t ask any more questions. 

Jihoon oversees Minghao’s training, and randomly appears at Minghao’s drill sessions. These are the days he does the best. Something about the five star general’s presence instills Minghao with a sense of power and authority - his voice doesn’t stutter and his orders are clear. 

The days that neither Soonyoung nor Jihoon are present are the days that Minghao’s soldiers mutter about Satan playing favorites, about inexperience and naivety. When his heart skips a beat when he overlooks his troops, when he feels unsupported and lost, those are the days he leaves the barracks biting his lip and willing himself not to cry. When Jihoon isn’t there to intimidate them, when Soonyoung isn’t there to shove faces into mud and demand respect, that’s when Minghao resents Wonwoo the most. 

He makes the mistake of telling this to Junhui over dinner in the common dining room, voice low but not low enough, how he wishes he wasn’t a general. Someone glares daggers from down the table, someone throws their fork. It misses Minghao by a quarter centimeter. 

He doesn’t say anything about being unhappy to anyone after that, because god forbid word gets back to Wonwoo. 

-

But when Wonwoo asks him, straight out, it’s all he can do to stop talking. The words flow out in a steady stream; his inability to be confident in his power, his insecurity when his soldiers mock him, how he wants to respect Wonwoo but how can he when he’s so horrified by what he’s done to him? 

When the tears well up, Wonwoo panics. “No, no, don’t cry,” he begs, uncaring of the fact that he’s literally Satan, that he’s never begged for anything ever. But Minghao is tired, and still a teenage boy, overwhelmed and confused and unsure, and he sobs. His shoulders heave as he falls into Wonwoo’s chest. “You don’t have to be a general, Minghao, darling, don’t cry.” 

“I don’t?” Minghao asks, voice muffled but clearly resembling that of a petulant child. 

Wonwoo runs his fingers through the boy’s hair in an attempt at comfort. “Of course not. I just didn’t want you to be stuck in the factories or at the bottom ranks. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.” 

Minghao straightens up and wipes his cheeks clean of tear streaks, eyes downcast in embarrassment. “I’m sorry for crying, that was incredibly childish of me.” Wonwoo stares at him, this boy who’s broken through Satan’s walls and become his friend, who’s made him laugh and feel something he hasn’t felt in a millennia, and is overwhelmed. “I’m going to kiss you now,” he says, and closes the space between them before Minghao can register surprise. 

Mingyu enters the throne room and immediately turns to leave, unable to stop his smile. Finally, Wonwoo had found someone to make him happy.

-

_Deleted Scene #1_

"You're gay?" Minghao asks, when they break apart. Wonwoo rolls his eyes. That would be the first thought on his mind. Not that he just had Satan's tongue in his mouth, or that he's essentially the most powerful person in Hell, now that he's got Wonwoo wrapped around his finger.

"It's not a sin for no reason, darling."

Wonwoo stops Minghao's laughs by kissing him again.

-

_Deleted Scene #2_

Junhui nudges him, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. "So, what does his room look like? Are there dead animals hanging on the wall? Torture chambers in the corner?"

"Did Mingyu tell _everybody_ that I stayed in Wonwoo's room last night?" Minghao demanded, only realizing his mistake when Soonyoung begins to hoot.

"It's true!" the blond general hollers. "Jihoonie, it's true!"

"Minghao fucked Satan, Minghao fucked Satan," Junhui chants, dancing in a circle around a now-furiously blushing Minghao.

"You're all total assholes, and I hate you." Minghao doesn't tell them that Wonwoo's bedroom was full to the brim with plush decorative pillows, or that Wonwoo had been incredibly gentle and loving. Instead, he says, "So I _won't_ tell you that there's a new hole in the brick wall."

Soonyoung screeches. "You broke a hole in a _brick wall_?"

Minghao smirks. "I just said I'm not telling you."

It's nice to have something over the heads of centuries-old demons instead of the other way around, for once.


	33. ads (mingyu/soonyoung)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> escape (the piña colada song) au. sort of. 
> 
> mingyu/soonyoung

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pairing requested by lillith a while back, sorry for the wait!  
> (an extra apology to people who have also requested prompts, especially those from much, much longer ago.)
> 
> housekeeping notes (aka self promo)  
> 1\. my tumblr! i’m rlly excited that it’s up and running. i’m posting all the chapters of this collection over there (edited af for ur re-reading pleasure) along with a lot of rare pair reblogs so if you’re into those things -> empresseokjin.tumblr.com  
> 2\. i have started a chaptered fic. (pauses for scandalized inhales) i know i know but i’m really excited to see how it goes! it’s meanie and it’s a model!au so if you’re into THOSE things go check it out and drop a comment pretty please (:  
> 3\. who knows how long it will be before another chapter of this comes out? i’m really sorry for the sporadic nature of my updates, i’ll try to do better. i love all of you to the moon and back.

Breaking up would ensure they both stayed sane and happy, they reasoned, and that’s really all they wanted for each other. Soonyoung packed his cast iron skillet and his spatulas, and the rest of the kitchen equipment he had joyfully put away in endearingly small cabinets and drawers not too long before. Mingyu emptied the bottom three drawers of their dresser and the left half of their closet, carefully laying clothes on the bed and helping Soonyoung take them off their hangers. After the moving van was loaded, they stared for a second before hugging each other tightly. 

The relationship might have died, slowly strangled by screaming matches and silent nights facing away from each other in bed, but their friendship thrived. It needed a little time to recover, but no one was surprised about that. And no one said anything when Soonyoung cuddled up to the flannel he stole from Mingyu, or when Mingyu listened to old voicemails Soonyoung had left months prior. 

Breaking up was the right choice. 

-

Junhui rolled over on the couch, flinging an arm out in his sleep. Soonyoung startled awake as the arm that had previously been tucked around him was now smacking him in the face. “Bitch,” he whined, shoving his best friend in the shoulder. “I’m cramped. Get up. Go to bed.” 

“Am in bed,” Junhui mumbled. “Go t’ sleep.” 

Soonyoung shoved against Junhui’s dead weight with his shoulder until he was able to wiggle out from underneath him. “You’re on the couch. Go to your own bed.” 

“Stop sleeping in my house and it wouldn’t be a problem,” Junhui bit back, but he rolled off, smacking onto the floor. He sighed as he picked himself up, and Soonyoung rolled back over to face the cushions. 

“I will,” he mumbled, “as soon as I can find a job.” He willed himself not to think about the home he had just lost - he had already cried once that week. 

His friend clicked his tongue loud enough for Soonyoung to hear him from the kitchen. “Getting laid is what you really need. And to get up, it’s like six in the morning and I have work soon.” The sound of eggs cracking lured him off the couch. 

“Is that french toast?” 

“Yeah. You’re lucky I love you, Soonyoung.” And he knew it. Junhui had graciously opened up his home to him until he found an apartment, and pretended to be on the phone with Wonwoo when he cried, and called Jihoon to bring him bread when he was otherwise inconsolable. He’d be a million times more lost and broken if it wasn’t for Junhui. 

Soonyoung kicked the edge of the counter softly over and over. “I’m sorry that Wonwoo won’t come over while I’m here.” Junhui sighed heavily but didn’t say anything. Soonyoung apologized some fifty times a day - if he replied to all of them, he’d run out of oxygen. _I’ve told you, Soonyoung,_ he had said the first time his best friend apologized for the same thing, _you come first, okay? Just like Wonwoo is putting Mingyu first. You deserve someone to do the same thing._

“Here’s your french toast,” Junhui said, sliding a plate across the counter and picking up his own with his bare hands. “I have to go.” 

Soonyoung scoffed. “You have 45 minutes. Just because you feel like you have to be first into the office doesn’t mean you should go with your hair looking like you haven’t brushed it since the 1800s.” He licked his fingertips, and as a true testament to the age and strength of their friendship, Junhui let him run them through his hair. “Okay, that’s better.” 

“You’re disgusting,” Junhui sniped. “Now can I go, or did Mommy pack me a lunch today too?” 

“Fuck off,” he laughed. “Have a good day.” 

Junhui stuck his toast in his mouth and grabbed his shoulder bag, waving a goodbye as he ran out the door. Soonyoung rolled his eyes before shoving a forkful of his own breakfast into his mouth. He moaned. Junhui made the best french toast. With hope in his heart he unlocked his phone, feeling disappointed at the lack of notifications. No interview requests from offices, no replies from Grindr chats, nothing. Even the usual damn spam emails were avoiding him. 

“I’m going to die alone,” he said resignedly. “Broke and alone.” Once he had finished his now-less appealing breakfast, he began to clean up. Just as he was grabbing the plates, his phone began to yell ceaselessly. _Annyeonghaseyo! Annyeonghaseyo!_ his email tone sang. Soonyoung jumped, the pile of dishes in his hand flying in all directions. “What the hell?” he yelped, narrowly missing being hit in the foot by a falling ceramic plate. He set the survivors on the counter and grabbed his phone. 

_Welcome to match.com!_ read the topmost notification. 

“What the hell…” he repeated, this time much more incredulously. The long list of emails continued as he scrolled down. _Thanks for joining eharmony... Your love story starts here on Fitness Singles… Welcome to MillionaireMatch… Start your search at AsianDating.com…_

As more and more emails began to appear, including some You’ve Made a Match! types, he became more and more overwhelmed. “Someone is going to die,” he said, throwing his phone over the breakfast bar onto the couch. Immediately after, his ringtone began to sound off. He spent the majority of the 30 seconds trying to ignore it, but when the concern that it might be a call back overcame his irritation, he ran to grab it. 

“Hello?” 

“Hyung! Did you see what we did?” Chan said brightly, unaware of how murder automatically scrawled itself all over Soonyoung’s face. 

He took a deep stabilizing breath. “What do you mean by we?” 

“Me, Junhui-hyung, Jisoo-hyung, Jihoon-hyung, basically everyone.” Except Wonwoo and Mingyu, Soonyoung finished the sentence mentally. If he wasn’t sure before, he was positive now that he’d been doing too much sulking. It was rare for his hyungs to get involved in any of their dongsaeng’s schemes, but it was obvious now how many people they would need to pull off that many sign ups in such a short time. If even Jeonghan-hyung had gotten down and dirty, it really was time for him to man up and move on. 

“Ah. Yeah, I saw it.” He looked guiltily at the broken plates on the floor. He’d have to figure out how to hide that from Junhui. “What the fuck is wrong with you guys.” 

Soonyoung could picture the dejected frown on Chan’s face. “You didn’t like it?” 

“I appreciate the thought,” he skirted, afraid to make Chan upset at work. Law firms probably didn’t take well to their interns sobbing in the middle of the morning. “Why, though? MillionaireMatch? Really?” 

“Did you get the email from ChristianMingle?” 

“Chan, I’m not even Christian.” Soonyoung rubbed his forehead, eyes squeezed closed. Something deep inside told him he needed new friends. 

Chan almost audibly shrugged. “It’s the thought that counts. ChristianMingle was my idea. You should talk to Jeonghan-hyung about MillionaireMatch though, he was the one who chose that one. I think that’s his dream scenario. For you to marry rich, I mean. Just like any good mother would want.” 

Soonyoung lifted his face to the ceiling, and despite telling Chan he wasn’t Christian, he sent up a prayer asking for patience. “I’ve got to go now. Call me after you get off, or something. Don’t lose your internship because someone sees you using the firm’s time to browse dating sites.” 

“Bye, hyung! Have fun,” he trilled before hanging up. Wearily, Soonyoung set his phone down and pulled his laptop out from underneath the coffee table. His most recent tab was still open, a Craigslist posting that he had been reading for fun. _Lost condom - tied off condom left on A train, please message if found!!!!_ It was those kinds of things that made him feel better about his own sad life. He eyed his cursor hanging just over the Personals, just one tiny scroll away from the men seeking men tab. Soonyoung had promised himself he never would, but he thought of the irony if he told his friends he had a craigslist date just after they had signed him up for a million legitimate dating sites, and he couldn’t help himself. 

Page one, result one. _Singer Seeking Dancer._

It was fate, he decided, and clicked the link. 

_Hi! I sing for a living, I like coconut alcohol and people who aren’t idiots, and I like dancers. Looking for something incredibly serious. Message if interested (serious inquiries only). ___

__He pushed thoughts of the Craigslist Killer out of his head and opened up a new message to kim97. _Hi, I dance for a living. I like coconut alcohol too and I like to think I’m not an idiot. I like singers. I also like serious. Message back if interested._ Feeling cute and clever, he hit send. Junhui would kill him if he knew, but he could care fuck all what Junhui thought. _ _

__Soonyoung closed his laptop gently and made his way to the kitchen to hide the evidence._ _

__-_ _

____kim97 messaged you!__ hi, do you live in seoul?  
_dance9111 replied to kim97!_ yes. do you know where tosokchon is?  
_kim97 messaged you!_ the chicken soup place yeah  
_dance9111 replied to kim97!_ let’s meet there tomorrow at 7, is that okay  
_kim97 messaged you!_ alright. what’s your name?  
_dance9111 replied to kim97!_ don’t kill the mystery man. i’m blond, you can’t miss me. 

__-_ _

__Soonyoung sat at a small two person table in Tosokchon, glancing at his watch every thirty seconds. He hadn’t told anyone where he was going, only that if all went well, he wouldn’t be coming back that night. Junhui had immediately informed the group chat, and everyone began to bet on which site he scored his first date on. The bell over the door jingled and Soonyoung’s head shot up from his phone._ _

__Mingyu walked into the restaurant, peering around. Soonyoung immediately knew what he was looking for - a blond. Hands shaking, he stood up. Mingyu’s eyes darted over to him and their gazes locked. He saw him physically struggle to not run out of the restaurant that very minute, and he nervously made his way over before Mingyu could bolt._ _

__“Hi.” He towered over Soonyoung, just like always, and he felt himself automatically relax in the illusion of protection. “You’re here for a Craiglist date, right?”_ _

__Mingyu tensed further. “You’re dance9111?” Soonyoung nodded, unable to look up and meet his eyes. “I should go -”_ _

__“Can we just try?” Soonyoung asked, voice little more than a whisper. “I miss you, Mingyu-ah. So much.” He watched as Mingyu’s fists tightened and relaxed in rhythm, an anxiety-relieving technique leftover from his childhood. No one would ever know Mingyu like he did, Soonyoung realized, and he didn’t want anyone to ever know._ _

__Mingyu released a heavy breath. “Okay.”_ _

__-_ _

__“I didn’t know you liked coconut alcohol that much,” Soonyoung said as they left the restaurant, pinkies intertwined covertly. He was avoiding what he really wanted to say: _I didn’t know you liked dancers that much, I didn’t know you liked_ me _that much.__ _

__Mingyu shrugged. “It was an acquired taste, but I couldn’t live without it now.” He spoke like he knew what Soonyoung meant, and he he probably did._ _

__“I mean, you probably could,” he replied, dipping his head. The insecurities wouldn’t go away for a long time - three years to take them down, three seconds to throw them back up. But they had agreed to work for it again, and this time, to not give up._ _

__Mingyu tightened his grip, now on Soonyoung’s full hand. “Hey. I tried. I definitely can’t.” Soonyoung looked up at him before glancing away, cheeks heating up. He hadn’t even realized until that very second how much he missed Mingyu. He was in love with him, no question - in love with his smile, and how he felt safe in his arms, and how he made him feel. Soonyoung loved every inch of Mingyu, inside and out._ _

__“I’m so sorry,” he choked out, tears beginning to fill his eyes. “I’m sorry I left.” Mingyu stopped walking, Soonyoung jerking to a halt automatically beside him. He pulled his small boyfriend into his arms and tucked his head against his neck, feeling his shoulders shake as they both mourned what they used to have._ _

__“Soonyoung, it’s okay. We have a fresh start, yeah?” Slowly, Soonyoung collected himself, nodding and wiping his eyes. “I love you.”_ _

__He looked up at Mingyu with wet, wide eyes, mouth breaking into a smile. “I love you, too.”_ _

__-_ _

__Breaking up did less for their sanity than they expected, both finding themselves teetering on the deep end. Trying again kept them happy and in love, and that’s all anyone really wanted for them. Soonyoung unpacked his baking pans and his choreography notebooks, slowly but surely inserting himself back into their home. Mingyu closed the back of the moving van and turned to meet Soonyoung halfway, catching him in his arms and holding him close. Every flannel was put away to gather scent again and voicemails were deleted to make room for new ones. Their relationship might have withered away in the past, but their feelings hadn’t. Growing pains were normal, but they were in love. Giving themselves a second chance was the best thing they could have done._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [](http://imgur.com/auOrJlx)  
>  in which i realize i ship this ship


End file.
